Heed Our Voice
by Vergil1989 the Crossover King
Summary: Dunmer Dragonborn, Giselle Morgonnis, has received a second Elder Scroll prophecy, telling her she must prepare to head to the land of Westeros before the next full moon. What awaits her and those that follow her into the vastly unknown kingdom? Only time and tide will tell.
1. An Elder Reading in the Night

_Author's Notes; This is another standalone project, unless my friend, Archer83, wishes to help me at a later date. For now though, I needed to at least get this story started and out of my head before it drove me to madness as surely as the Shivering Isles did lol. Joking aside, this chapter is so damn short for a couple reasons, mostly though because I rewrote this several times and started from scratch until stopping on this version. I don't think it's the best I could have done, but it's certainly not the worst._

_As for the other reason, I'm going to be heading off to a special camp tomorrow afternoon, a kind of camp for people with disabilities of some kind or another, and I'll be gone until Friday, so excitement for that was keeping me from my muse to some extent lol._

_At any rate, enjoy the start of this story and I'll see you folks at Sovngarde when I return! Oh wait, I meant I'll see you later lol._

**Chapter 1; An Elder Reading in the Night.**

**Whiterun, Breezehome.**

It began with a reading from an Elder Scroll. An Imperial Moth Priest had delivered the bad news right to her doorstep, and Giselle Morgonnis, the Dovahkiin that had destroyed Alduin once and for all, had been able to do nothing but listen as another great journey was laid out before her. While the reading itself was vague, as was expected of anything related to the Scrolls, the destination was pretty clear cut. She was to leave for the distant land of Westeros before the next full moon.

The prophecy hadn't said anything about taking the journey alone, what she was supposed to do when she got there, only that a threat would rise that would require her attention just as Alduin had required her attention. Just as the Tyranny of the Sun plot that Harkon Volkihar had tried to pull off had been doomed from the start, the attempted takeover of all of Tamriel by the Thalmor, the attempted theft of the Skeleton Key by Mercer Frey, and all the other plots by those with evil intent, she had been there and stopped them all. Alduin had simply been the toughest challenge of her two years in Skyrim and the island of Solstheim.

While it wasn't the first time she had gone into an adventure blind, her destiny of being the Dovahkiin, Dragonborn in the common tongue, had been one big leap of faith after another, Giselle felt she was flying a lot blinder than usual. All of her past adventures had been in a land she knew well, even if Skyrim hadn't been where she'd been born, but Westeros was about as legendary as dragons had once been to the Nordic lands of Skyrim. The problem was that anyone who tried to find Westeros rarely returned, presumably lost to the sea, pirates, or the monsters that called the ocean their home. "If anyone can find it, it'll be you, my Thane."

Looking up from the diary she had opened up on her lap, Giselle smiled when Lydia sat at the table next to her. "Am I that transparent?" The dark elf, a dunmer, asked, and the Housecarl only chuckled and nodded her head. Pulling a stray silver white hair back behind her pointed ear, Giselle closed the book she had been writing in and put it back into her pack which she had left by the fireplace. "I should have known better than to ask. I never would have thought there was a sense of humor underneath that armor when we first met."

"I was going to say the same thing about you old friend." Lydia replied, a small smile pulling at her lips as the Nord swordswoman met Giselle's deep, brown eyed gaze. "Despite all we've been through, I'm glad that I've followed you and protected what is yours, regardless if it was won in steel or gold. Yours has been a path of honor."

"Not completely." Giselle stated softly, and while Lydia didn't hear the words, the flicker of shame on the dark elf's features was enough to clue in the woman that she might have spoken poorly. Before Lydia could apologize, Giselle held up a hand and offered a small smile in turn. "Those days are well behind me Lydia. I wasn't always the noble warrior you know now, but my journey as Dragonborn did more for me than I ever could have dreamed possible. In a way, I owe Alduin quite a bit of thanks, even if he did try to eat me and end the world."

"A plan you stopped when you destroyed him." Lydia stated with pride, and Giselle's smile blossomed into a full grin as they raised their mugs high and took a hearty sip from their respective glasses. Only after they had set them back down did Lydia shake her head to clear it from the strong ale she had imbibed, while her friend only chuckled, apparently unaffected by the hearty drink. "Your constitution still amazes me. How can you drink as much as any Nord and yet still remain standing?"

"It's the price you pay when trying to win a drinking contest against a Daedric Prince." Giselle shot back, a twinkle in her brown eyes that had Lydia shaking her head in astonishment. "I don't recommend it. Let's just say that I don't remember a lot of what happened that night, and leave it at that."

"I'll keep the stories I've heard to myself then." Lydia replied before looking away and towards a nearby parchment that contained the Moth Priest's words. While the reading had been done in private, Lydia had stood behind a door and had copied the man's seemingly inane ramblings on her Thane's request. They had gone well beyond the normal relationship of Housecarl and Thane, having shared the road together and all of its perils and rewards since they had been paired off by the Jarl of Whiterun for Giselle's slaying of her first dragon on the edge of Whiterun's borders. "I know it's not a matter of _if _you go, because to deny something foretold in an Elder Scroll is without question the worst thing anyone could do, but what do you plan to do should you make it to Westeros?"

Giselle spent a long moment in silence as she stared into the heart of the fire that provided much needed warmth to her small home before turning back to Lydia at last. Any humor that had been on her face had fled by that point. "I don't know old friend. I only know that if my luck holds, the answers will present themselves as they always do. The only thing that's clear is the destination and how long we have to prepare." Before Lydia could say anything to the fact Giselle had said 'we' rather than 'I', the dark elf merely smirked before continuing. "Yes, I said 'we'. The Scroll didn't say I had to face this threat alone, but I know you have a family to consider now. Vilkas would have my head if I took you anywhere without his leave, even if Kodlak named me his successor."

The rank of Harbinger among the Companions that resided in the mead hall of Jorrvaskr didn't mean you were considered their leader, only that you were the one the proud band of warriors respected the most because of one's unwavering honor and strength in both body and mind. The Companions had no official leader, but the Harbinger was the one the rest of the Shield-Brothers and Sisters went to when they needed aid, some word of wisdom, or when an important decision needed to be made. Despite her initial reluctance to take up Kodlak's mantle as Harbinger, everyone at the fabled mead hall gave her the same respect they had given the old warrior before his death. That didn't mean she was about to anger Lydia's husband by doing something reckless, like take off with her on another mad adventure without so much as a goodbye kiss.

"Then it is a good thing she isn't going alone." As if summoned, the smaller, and undoubtedly smarter, of the twin Companions, walked through Breezehome's door, a small Nord girl clinging to his back until he let her down. The moment he did, Lucia, a girl Giselle had found begging on the streets of Whiterun, ran into the dark elf's lap with a cry of joy, much to Lydia and Vilkas's admiration and amusement. "Lucia ambushed me as I was leaving the Hall. She has your knack for persuasion Harbinger, so I was powerless to resist her request to carry her home." Vilkas grinned as he took up a spot behind Lydia's chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the girl that had since taken up residence on Giselle's lap.

"Yep! Uncle Farkas told me about the giant you and him had taken down together just last week!" Lucia exclaimed in excitement, much to the man's mild embarrassment at being ratted out. It was a well known fact that Farkas didn't mince words, and had likely told the girl exactly how the giant had fallen to their efforts. Giselle could only sigh in amused exasperation as Lucia continued to talk about how Farkas had transformed into a werewolf and jumped on the monster's back, tearing at it with teeth and claws, while she had remained on the ground, swords slicing through flesh and bone, proving her suspicions all too well.

"I think Uncle Farkas needs to learn to keep his mouth shut, or I'll Shout his head off the next time he feels the urge to tell you about our adventures in such bloody detail." Giselle stated when the girl on her lap stopped to take a breath amidst her excited retelling of that particular adventure. Lucia giggled, since those present knew the chances of her carrying out any kind of threat against the well meaning twin to Vlikas were about as likely as pigs learning to fly.

"I'll try to talk some sense into him Giselle, but he loves your girl quite a bit, same as the rest of us at the Hall." Giselle could only smile, unable to help the pride that swelled in her chest as Lucia hopped down and started towards her room with a tired goodbye thrown over her shoulder. When word had got out the Dragonborn had gone out of her way to give a child a better life, the Companions had been the first to take a look at the girl that had captured the dunmer's eye and her heart. It hadn't taken them long before they started finding excuses to 'keep the girl company', when in truth they had been teaching Lucia how to take care of herself while Giselle had been away from home on one adventure or another. Giselle had come home one day to see Lucia firing a bow while Aela stood nearby, giving her advice on how to make her next shot better. It had been an unexpected, but pleasant, surprise, needless to say, and Giselle had seen the wisdom behind their actions, even though a part of her still hoped such skills were never required. Aela had shot down her concerns, saying it was better to be prepared for nothing than to be found wanting.

While she had been thinking about all that, Lydia had noted the thoughtful expression on her face and tapped her Thane on her knee. With a small jerk, Giselle came back to the present and blushed a little, her dark cheeks darkening further as she realized she had drifted off. "Sorry, I was lost in pleasant memories, which is a welcome change from my sleepless nights."

"I can only imagine. From what Lydia tells me, the war with the Stormcloaks still keeps you up at night." Giselle only nodded, no explanation needed in regards to what she had been through to bring peace to the land. Vlikas didn't let her linger on it long as he finally sat down after pulling another chair to the table, a somber look in his eyes. "But that does bring me back to why I came here at all old friend. You know that I'll always have your back, even if you weren't our Harbinger. Farkas would agree as well, if he were present right now instead of running an errand for High Queen Elisif. I'd bet that every man and woman in the Companions would follow you, if you only asked." The admiration in Vilkas's voice was well founded. High Queen Elisif had become a strong and independent ruler since Giselle had become one of her trusted friends and allies against the man that had murdered her husband. General Tullius, for all of his tactical brilliance, was a man of the Empire first and foremost, and had tried to subvert the queen's rule, but he had been put in his place with a single Shout, on Elisif's order, much to the old general's shock. It had been a warning, Elisif had stated, but the next time he tried to go over her head, she would have his removed.

Giselle only nodded her head as she leveled her gaze on Lydia and Vilkas. Her words were soft, but the weight behind them was unmistakable. She wanted them to understand that this was not something to be decided lightly, even if their desire to follow her made it difficult to talk them down. "I know Vilkas, just as I'm sure a lot of people would willingly assist in whatever the future holds for me, but I _can't _ask because everyone has been through so much already. The war with Ulfric and his Stormcloaks, the return of the dragons due to the Thalmor's desire to weaken all of Tamriel, the vampire attacks, the list goes on. My point is that Skyrim's people need time to heal, and I wouldn't ask them to go into the unknown even if we hadn't just come out of a war."

"Your concern for their well being is _why _they would follow you, Giselle." Lydia stated in turn, drawing the dunmer's gaze solely upon her. "A great leader does not command their people, but simply asks them to do the impossible. You have done the impossible time and again since the day we met, and I would gladly do it all again. Except for that time when I had to get you down from that spider web in Dustman's Cairn, that was one experience I could have done without." An involuntary shiver went down Lydia's spine at that particularly unpleasant memory, while Giselle tried not to meet the amused look Vlikas threw her way.

"I'm not going to dissuade you am I?" Giselle asked at last, and wasn't surprised when both Lydia and Vilkas firmly shook their heads. With a sigh, the dark elf looked up at the two a moment later, an all too familiar determined look on her face. "Very well you two, I'll yield this one time." When Vilkas breathed a sigh of relief, Giselle jerked her head towards him and frowned. "Why do I get the feeling you have already spread the word to every town and hold from here to Fort Dawnguard?"

"It was Farkas's idea." He admitted after a moment's hesitation.

"Oh, well that makes it _so _much better." Giselle sarcastically quipped before standing to her feet and walking the short distance to Vilkas. She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled up at him, much to the former werewolf's badly disguised relief. "Thank you for going over my head, just don't make a habit of it."

Vilkas chuckled and rolled his shoulder where the woman's hand had just been, slightly amazed he still had an arm. "You are most welcome Harbinger, but I make no promises. I have no doubt when we reach Solitude, Elisif will have a fleet of ships waiting to follow us into the vast unknown beyond Tamriel's borders."

"The only question left is who gets to tell Lucia what's about to happen." Lydia stated rather than asked, but before they could turn their gaze to her, Giselle had already started towards the door to her girl's room. Neither of them were surprised when the dunmer gently shut the door behind her, wishing to share the news of the journey being planned in private. "She truly loves that girl as if she were of her own flesh and blood." Lydia said, a mix of pride and wistfulness seeping into her voice.

With Hircine's 'blessing' removed from his body and spirit, Vilkas had been far more open to the idea of raising pups of his own with Lydia at his side, but old fears remained. While the urges associated with his animalistic nature were gone along with the curse itself, he was afraid any child born to him would carry the curse as he once had. Lydia understood his fears, but had said she was willing to take that risk. She firmly believed they were unfounded, and had said as much in previous arguments on the subject.

Before she could say anything about it though, Vilkas spoke first. "I know what you would ask Lydia, but even cured of the beast blood, I do not know what would come of our union." Vilkas replied softly, the conversation an old one by that point. "None of those that have remained in the Circle as werewolves have taken the chance, as have none of us that were cured of our affliction, uncertain of what might come into the world if we did. But….I am not as superstitious as most, and if you truly wish to begin a family, then I am….willing to take the risk, as you are." Vlikas said at last, grunting softly when Lydia embraced him tightly in her arms to the point he was sure his ribs would crack if she tightened her hold in the slightest, but just as he was about to protest, she backed away, but not before crushing her lips against his.

While Lydia and Vilkas were discussing their plans for the future, Giselle was sitting on the side of Lucia's small bed, with the girl looking up at her from underneath the covers, a thoughtful expression on her face. The ten year old child was smart and tougher than she had been at that age, but Giselle hadn't been abandoned by her family, unlike Lucia after her parents had died in the war. When Lucia finally did speak, it was one of the few times the Dragonborn was taken by complete surprise. "I heard the Imperial Moth Priest when he read the prophecy. You thought I was asleep, but I listened. I….had a feeling it was important mama, and I was right." Hesitantly looking away, Giselle had to strain to hear the girl's next words. "Does this mean….you're going to leave me here?"

"Oh Lucia no." Giselle stated softly as she pulled the girl against her chest, her hands making small, soothing circles against her back while she continued to speak. "I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't even sure if I'd leave in the first place. And besides, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you behind. I don't want to take you away from the only home you've ever known, even if that bastard uncle of yours also calls Whiterun home." Lucia looked up at the dark elf's face then and she made it a point to gently wipe away the child's tears.

"But you can't ignore an Elder Scroll. Even I know that's a bad idea mama." Giselle felt her heart burst with love and pride as she noted the determined look on Lucia's face and eyes. Two years of being in her company, when she was able to come home, even if it was only for a few hours at a time, had done more good than she could have hoped. "I want to go."

"Alright little wing, alright." Giselle said before kissing Lucia's thick head of dark brown hair before she tucked her in and blew out the nearby candle. "Get some sleep my child. I have a feeling the next few days are going to be quite hectic. Good night Lucia."

"Good night mama." Giselle offered her one last smile as she went to the door and lingered in the passageway, watching Lucia's eyes drift close before quietly shutting the bedroom door. Whatever came, she would be damned if she'd leave Lucia behind again.

As if reading her thoughts, she turned her head as she felt a hand fall on her shoulder, and met Lydia's soft gaze. "She was too young to follow you, even if her heart was willing to brave the same perils you did for us all. You have given her more than a home of full of warmth and love my Thane, you have given her a chance to grow up and have children of her own one day. She told me that herself after you destroyed Harkon and saved Serana from his madness." Again Giselle wasn't surprised when Lydia saw the worry in her brown eyes and spoke once more. "She'll find her way home, I'm certain of it. You don't take a clan as old as hers and hope to change its habits overnight."

"I hope you're right, because if something happens to her out there, I will personally lead the Dawnguard into Castle Volkihar and kill every last one of them, the prophecy rot in Oblivion." Lydia didn't doubt her Thane's venomous words since she felt the same way about the millenniums old vampire. While she didn't love her as her Thane did, Lydia knew without a doubt that Serana would cut off her own head before harming an innocent soul, a fact she had proven many times in the past after Giselle had found her sealed away in a crypt Serana's mother had created to keep her daughter out of Harkon's hands.

"Before you do anything, I think you should follow your own advice Giselle." Lydia ignored the annoyed look the dark elf cast her and started up the simple wooden steps that lead to their separate bedrooms. "Until the morrow my Thane."

"Good night to you as well old friend."

_End Notes; Before anyone asks, I chose Lydia because I have a tendency to get her killed quite by accident lol. During my last attempted playthrough, (my PS3 decided to take a dump so I had to reformat it,) she got her face chewed off by a frost troll on my first trip to High Hrothgar. Oops. That and I've seen other stories where the Lioness, Mjoll, or other Thanes and heroes across the country of Skyrim are paired off with their respective Dragonborns in other stories here on FF, but Lydia seems to be the least favored or so I've noticed. So I thought I'd give the ol girl a shot and see how it plays out._

_As for Lucia, I recently discovered Hearthfire's heart warming adoption options, and I almost teared up just writing this small chapter alone. I don't get emotional often, but seeing her running up to my dunmer heroine, computer controlled actions that it is, was quite inspiring, needless to say. Even when she asked me for an allowance, I couldn't help but grin lol._

_At any rate, enjoy folks, and while I'm not sure how often I'll update this, I'll definitely try to do so in a somewhat timely fashion. Adios!_


	2. Voyage From Skyrim

_Author's Notes; Camp Horizon was awesome as always, just as the old MDA variant I used to attend while I was a kid was also awesome. As you can see, I'm back folks, and it's time for this journey to truly get underway. Wish them luck, they're going to need it. D_

**Solitude.**

They had been on the march for the better part of a month, stopping in every town along their path until they reached the temperate, albeit snow covered fortress city of Solitude, where High Queen Elisif reigned from her Blue Palace. Giselle hadn't needed to see the ever expanding train of wagons and the people that rode in them to see she had gathered an immense crowd, to know that her friends' words had been well founded. What they hadn't anticipated was her need to ask at all. People followed her without question, as surely as most people followed Queen Elisif now that she had become a far stronger ruler than she had started out as after the death of her husband at Ulfric's hands. _They wouldn't be so willing if they knew what I had done after escaping Helgen, and Alduin's wrath at the same time._ She let that dark thought sink into the back of her mind as she turned and met Lucia's beaming, if tired, smile. Her dark lips pulled up into a small grin as Giselle let her hand fall on the girl's fur cloaked shoulder that was nearest to her, grabbing the girl's attention at the same time. "You've done good little wing. I'm proud you rode all this way without complaint, but if you needed to rest, all you had to do was say something. We still have a week or so before we have to be on our way." While the time of their departure was fast approaching, Giselle wasn't about to risk anyone's well being, especially that of her adopted daughter, just so they could get moving that much quicker.

Before Lucia could respond, Vilkas laughed and rode up next to the two of them as they approached the iron bound gates of the city. "She's as stubborn as you are Harbinger."

"I wonder where she gets it from." Farkas, having joined their caravan a week after leaving Whiterun, stated as he caught up with his twin brother. His bigger size and gruff manner made him seem imposing, but Giselle knew of the gentle heart underneath his rough exterior as he looked down at Lucia before turning his gaze on her next. "She might not share your blood, but she's certainly got your spirit Shield-Sister. Almost makes me wonder if she doesn't have a bit of dragon blood in her veins as well."

Lucia forgot her exhaustion immediately as she all but jerked upright in the saddle, her head darting from left to right and back again. "You really think so Uncle Farkas?! Is it possible I might be like mama?!"

Giselle could only chuckle and shake her head at Lucia's excitement as she patted her girl's shoulder tenderly before letting her brown eyed gaze fall heavily on the man to her right. "Farkas. Trust me when I say Miraak was bad enough. As much as the thought might excite Lucia, I don't think the world's ready for a _third _Dovahkiin. Still, if by some twist of fate she did turn out like me, I'm sure she'd be a far better candidate. What do you say Lucia, want to go hunt down a dragon?"

"On second thought….maybe not." Lucia shuddered and blushed when everyone started laughing at how quickly she changed her tune.

"Good answer Lucia." Giselle stated, unable to hide how glad she was that Lucia wasn't so eager to go against one of Skyrim's greatest adversaries. Fighting a dragon was not easy, even for her, and while she was the ultimate dragonslayer, Giselle had never purposely sought out the winged bastards in most cases. They came to her, seeking to kill the only person that could truly slay them once and for all.

From what she had discovered along the course of her journey, either through old books of ancient lore and legends regarding dragons and Dragonborn alike, as well as her own experiences, the Dragonborn consumed a slain dragon's soul, claiming all of their power and knowledge for themselves. It was how she had discovered the truth of what she was.

The process allowed a Dovahkiin to use the same power the dragons commanded, that of the Thu'um, or Shout. To put it simply, the dragon tongue was itself a weapon of immense destructive capability, and was not to be used lightly. Even the dragons used their power sparingly, for fear of laying waste to everything before them. Dead slaves and dead land were useless, after all.

The Greybeards, a group of four powerful masters that had learned to use the Thu'um to train newly awakened Dovahkiins, had a training regiment and belief system called the Way of the Voice, where those they summon to High Hrothgar are taught to find a balance within themselves, to use their natural gift for the dragon tongue for the betterment of all rather than for personal gains or ill intent. The dragon tongue was incredibly difficult to learn even the most basic of Shouts, and only the Dovahkiin was able to use it without any training whatsoever, just like the dragons they hunted.

It took Lydia's hand falling on her shoulder for Giselle to snap back to the present, having ridden towards the Blue Palace without consciously being aware of it. With a simple nod, Giselle hopped down from her mount and handed the reins over to a stable boy before helping Lucia down from her saddle. "Do you think you can walk to the house while I talk to the Queen?" She asked once Lucia's boots had touched the stone ground.

"I think so." Lucia replied just as Jordis, the Housecarl appointed to Giselle while within Solitude's walls, held out a hand to the ten year old Nord child. Nothing needed to be said between her and the woman as the Housecarl escorted Giselle's daughter towards Proudspire Manor, the biggest home she had to her name.

Before she allowed herself to delay any longer, Giselle looked over her shoulder and met Vilkas and Farkas's respective faces, and they gave her a solemn nod before her brown eyes caught a glimpse of something fast approaching. With the sun just starting to set, it took her a moment to see anything distinctive about the darting shadow because of the failing light, but when she did, Giselle's brown eyes lit up with joy just as Serana Volkihar wrapped her arms around her. "It's been a while." Serana quipped, earning her a light hearted chuckle from the dunmer before their lips met.

"Too damn long." Giselle agreed, breathless when they pulled apart, her brown eyes meeting Serana's orange glowing orbs. Just staring into those fiery depths brought a rush of memories and emotions to the surface, most of them pleasant, and some of them a little _too _pleasant for the present company around them to know about, even if the love they shared for each other wasn't exactly a secret these days.

_She forgot all about the smell of decay and the inch thick layer of dust covering everything as she was pushed against the stone wall, Serana's lips crashing into hers. Fingers fumbled for the clasps that held Giselle's ebony armor in place while her own hands were busy undoing the bindings to the vampire's black bodice. Whatever happened once they descended into the portal to find Serana's mother could bloody well wait. She wanted Serana, and the feeling was mutual._

"_Are you sure about this?" Serana asked, even as a feral growl escaped her lips and she tore the last strap off of Giselle's breastplate before the heavy armor piece clanged against the floor of her mother's alchemy lab._

"_I'm certain." Giselle stated as she pulled her silver gray hair to the side, exposing her equally dark skinned neck to the ancient vampire that had already captured her heart by that point. "I want you to be the one, not because it's the only way into the Soul Cairn without sacrificing part of my own soul in the bargain, but because of what I feel for you."_

"_Well with an invitation like that, how can I refuse?" Despite Serana's sarcastic remark, it was clear that she was in no particular hurry as their eyes met, and the vampire hesitantly pulled back. "I'll be as gentle as I can Giselle." Giselle only nodded as her hand found the small of Serana's back while the vampire grabbed a handful of her silver mane of hair and held her steady before lowering her mouth to the dunmer's neck…._

"I'm glad you made it. Lucia will be happy to see you again." She managed to get out, straightening the hem of her fur lined cloak as she tried not to notice the amused looks on the twins' faces.

"So let me see if I got this straight." Farkas said as he slapped a hand on Serana's shoulder, a teasing grin on his face as he stared at the back of Giselle's head. "Giselle Morgonnis, destroyer of Alduin, vanquisher of Ulfric Stormcloak, huntress of the Silver Hand, is undone by you with just a single glance? If that's the case, I think we're in trouble."

"I'd tell you to bite me Farkas, but that might be taken as an invitation by Serana." Giselle grumbled, sighing when Serana giggled at the playful banter. "And you, what took you so long anyway?" She scowled before meeting the vampire's gaze just as Farkas's heavy hand fell to his side. Whatever good cheer that had been on the woman's face disappeared. Just as they reached the castle gate, Giselle looked away, having a feeling whatever news she had wasn't good. "How bad?"

Lowering her hood after they had entered the palace, Serana stared at the back of Giselle's head for a moment, gathering what strength she could from the dunmer's presence. "Bad. Isran and his followers were all too eager to help me destroy every occupant in Castle Volkihar." Serana said after a long, pregnant silence had fallen between them. Giselle didn't need her to clarify what that meant, but she didn't stop Serana from telling her anyway. She needed to hear it, and she knew Serana needed to get it out before it froze in her throat. "Besides my mother, who has taken up residence at Fort Dawnguard until our old home can be cleansed of what remains of my father's dark influence, I am the last of the Volkihar clan left. Isran wasn't happy about the arrangement, but I made sure he understood that if anything happened to her or me, you'd make him pay for it."

"You're damn right I would." Giselle growled low in her throat, turning just in time to see a single tear of blood fall from Serana's right eye. While she had anticipated this outcome, she had secretly hoped that Serana might have persuaded at least a few of Harkon's followers to change their ways, and only feed on bandits and the scum of the land in general. But from what Serana had said, they had doomed themselves by refusing to adapt to a new way of life, seeing all living men and women as nothing more than cattle to be slaughtered as they desired. While Giselle felt no attachment to the now dead vampires, she understood Serana had loved at least a few of them after a fashion, and couldn't blame her for feeling upset over having to turn on her own people for the sake of everyone else. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Serana." Giselle said at last, reaching out to put a hand on her lover's shoulder.

"There was nothing you could have done that I didn't try. They were too used to my father's way after eons of living in fear of his wrath." With that, the subject was closed to her then as Serana pushed ahead and was the first into the main hall.

Giselle knew she'd open up once they were alone, but it didn't stop her from wanting to help the vampire then and there as she silently followed her to Elisef's throne, ignoring the wary stares thrown by the nearby guards that patrolled the halls. 'Domesticated' as she was, Giselle couldn't blame them for being cautious around Serana, even if it made her blood boil to realize that some things hadn't changed. _Oblivion take them. She has yet to tear an innocent person's throat out, but you'd think she had the way they watch her every move. Almost makes me wish I hadn't cured myself of her gift when I did, but I wasn't sure if I could control my dragon soul and my thirst. I'm always glad that Serana understands what it means to fight against a part of yourself._ That line of thought was also pushed into a deep part of her mind as well as she and Serana, along with Farkas and Vilkas, knelt in front of Queen Elisif's throne. "It's good to see you again High Queen Elisif." Giselle intoned with as much respect as she could muster, ignoring the dark glare the demoted 'General' Tullius was throwing her way, while his former second in command, Legate Rikke, who now had Tullius's prestigious rank, gave Giselle a nod of respect before the frown on her face reasserted itself.

Elisif the Fair, as she was sometimes called, rose from her throne and smiled down at the four warriors that had entered her hall. "You needn't do that, you least of all Dovahkiin. Rise, stand tall and proud." They did as Elisif asked, and stood to their feet just as the High Queen embraced Giselle briefly before meeting her gaze. "When news reached us of your arrival, Tullius wanted to raise our defense just in case you were planning to attack Solitude." Tullius ignored the playful note in the Queen's voice and silently walked away, leaving Rikke to stand attendance in his place.

Giselle fought the desire to roll her eyes. Tullius still seemed to be rather bitter after all. He didn't seem to realize that if she wanted to rule, she could potentially take over Solstheim as many of Miraak's cultists had sworn fealty to her after his defeat. Besides, Paarthurnax had taught her a long time ago how to quench her dark desires for dominion, which were present in everyone who had dragon blood. "Trust me old friend, if I had wanted to take the city, I don't think there is a lot anyone could have done to stop me."

"That is what I tried to tell Tullius, but despite his faults, he truly means well." Elisif stated, and Giselle nodded her head in agreement since that was why he still breathed. Imperial man that he was, Tullius truly had the best interests of the people at heart, even though he didn't seem to know _any _of the nords' traditions and deeply held beliefs, which disgusted Giselle to no end. She was a dunmer from Cyrodiil, and she knew more than he did in two years of breathing Skyrim air than he did after fifty. However, he had played an important role against Ulfric, and it was safe to assume that without him, they wouldn't have won the war. That was in the past though, and Elisif brought their attention back to the present as a map was laid out on a nearby table. "As requested, I had my stewards search long and hard for any reference to Westeros, and what little they found all seem to suggest your best course would be to head straight north from Solitude's dock and steer east around Altmora. Beyond that, nothing short of the Nine Divines will get you there because anyone who's made the voyage has rarely returned, and the few that have-"

"Never found it. I know the stories my Queen." Giselle said as she gladly accepted a glass of wine from Falk Firebrand before addressing the small audience anew. "But if that Elder reading comes to pass, I'd rather be where I'm needed than watch my adopted homeland bleed because I didn't go. The way I see it, it is quite simple, and yet most difficult. I know that through choosing one, I will most likely forever lose the other, but the alternative could be even worse."

"And that is why we won the war, because of your sound wisdom coupled with that sword arm of yours." Rikke stated, having taken a position on the Queen's left while the court appointed sorceress stood on her right. "Even so, I feel the same about this madness Giselle, if you'll pardon me for speaking so bluntly my Queen." Elisif only nodded her head before Rikke continued. "While I hold the utmost respect for you, I think this plan is folly at its worst. Trying to find a land that no one has ever found to stop a threat that may or may not arise? Why should we lose our greatest warrior and everyone that's chosen to follow her on this fool's errand?"

"And yet we know that it exists, the Elder Scroll alone tells us that." Farkas rumbled, having taken a note from the Queen's attendants by standing behind and to the right of Giselle and Serana while his twin covered the left flank with Lydia next to him. Only a suicidal fool would attack such a strong band of warriors, but when you had the likes of the Dark Brotherhood able to strike down Emperors in broad daylight, among a crowd of hundreds, and get away without a scratch, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"I agree with Farkas, _kells _are fragments of creation and prophecies are only one of their many powers." Giselle said, but from the weird looks she got from the others present, she deduced that she had slipped into Dovahzul again. "I slipped up again didn't I?" The amused look on the vampire's face had the dunmer sighing in mild frustration. She'd have to have a serious talk with the Greybeards about that, if she got back from this of course.

Before she could retort to Serana's amused smirk, the vampire spoke up, stopping Giselle in her tracks. "I'm proof that the Elder Scrolls are accurate, even if their meanings aren't immediately apparent." Serana quipped before her small smirk disappeared moments later. "All this discussion is well and good, but while we have a general direction, we don't have a means to get there, unless you plan to let us borrow a ship that you might not ever see again."

"Who said anything about borrowing? I had planned to give you whatever you required." From the unsurprised looks from those standing beside their Queen, Giselle figured that they had already been informed of Elisif's plan as another roll of parchment was put over the map that had been laid out earlier. It took those gathered behind the Dovahkiin mere seconds to see what Elisif had put in front of them. "She is one of the first of her kind. A ship worthy of the Heroine of Skyrim."

'Ship' was a bit of a misnomer given the sheer size of the vessel that had been laid out before them. Ships to her were the fishing vessels and the long boats used by both the Aldmeri Dominion and the Imperials. What Elisif had laid out in front of her was far bigger than any fishing or merchant ship that she had ever seen. "It's a man-o-war. I had heard the Empire was working on something to match the naval power of the Dominion, but I had never thought I'd see something like this. By Ysgramor, it's gigantic!" Vilkas said, his eyes as round as saucers as he stared at the diagram in awe. Pointing to the bow of the massive ship, the former werewolf looked up to Elisif, his question unspoken but no less evident.

Giselle raised an eyebrow before she connected the dots, and could only shake her head at the ram that was attached to the front of the ship. "Please tell me you didn't collect Alduin's bones and mount them to the front of this monster of a vessel?" At the nervous chuckle from Farkas, the dark elf sighed and couldn't stop a smirk from appearing on her face as she figured out the chore Elisif had sent him on before the start of their latest endeavor.

"I couldn't get at Alduin since his corpse is where you left it, in Sovngarde, but I found quite a few mostly intact dragon skeletons scattered about the land. Never thought they'd be half as heavy without the meat attached to 'em though." Farkas replied before glancing at Elisif. "Told you she'd figure it out before you even showed her the ship."

"Can we perhaps get back on track?" Elisif asked, her fair voice silencing the light banter almost as easily as any Shout the dark elf had in her possession. When she was sure she had their undivided attention, the Queen looked to Giselle. "While I find myself torn between allowing you to leave and keeping you at Skyrim's beck and call, I understand what might be at stake if the reading comes to pass. It's a chance I won't take, even if your presence here would ensure a lasting peace. What I will do is make sure your way is paved and offer what I can to ensure your success."

"I cannot thank you enough Elisif. I know this is a huge gamble, but I feel it has to be this way." Giselle solemnly replied, remembering that Paarthurnax himself once said that she saw her destiny more clearly than he did. Whether or not that was true, she couldn't say, only that she had always done what she felt needed to be done, and so far she had done alright overall. Those behind her nodded their heads in agreement as the map and the ship diagram were rolled up and put away. The softer, gentler side to Elisif came out when she looked away, most likely thinking this would be the last time they'd see each other. Needing to keep the young Queen's hope alive, Giselle stepped around the table and put a hand on the woman's shoulder just as she started towards her throne. "If I'm able to return, rest assured I'll find a way back. Besides, I've made it a habit of defying the odds, and how many mortals can claim to have friends among the _Dov_?" She added with a smirk, and Elisif couldn't help but offer a small chuckle at the Dovahkiin's humor, silently grateful for the promise she had made for her benefit if nothing else.

With their business done, all that remained was to finish preparing for the voyage that would see them successful, or forever lost as so many before them. It was with those heavy thoughts in mind that she returned to her home of Proudspire Manor, finding Lucia already tucked in and sleeping soundly, Jordis standing silent vigil by the girl's door until Giselle nodded her head in thanks. With that simple gesture, Jordis went to her bed, while Lydia and Vilkas bade the dunmer a quick farewell before heading to a nearby inn for the night. That only left Farkas and Serana of the group she had taken to see the Queen. But when she had offered him a warm bed in the manor, he refused, much to Giselle's surprise. "I'd stay and eat you out of house and home Harbinger, but someone has to keep the people outside Solitude's walls in line. Besides, I have some business of my own to take care of before we go to our glorious deaths." The Companion said with a hearty laugh at the annoyed glare she threw his way on his way out the door.

"He has a very cheery personality." Serana remarked as soon as the doors shut behind the man before she turned to Giselle. Before the dunmer could say a word, the vampire's lips were against hers once more, her hands pressed against her back so that they were pressed firmly against each other. When they broke away, the centuries old vampire looked breathless despite the fact she hadn't needed to breathe for a very long time, and the feeling was mutual. "I've been wanting to do that since I got back."

"What did you call that kiss you gave me earlier?" Giselle asked, her cheeks flushed and hot enough to melt steel as she stared deeply into the woman's eyes. One heavily calloused hand pressed against Serana's cheek, light as a feather, and Serana turned her head and kissed the dark skin where the wrist met the rest of the woman's arm.

"A taste, a sample of things to come." The vampire said, still breathing heavily, her eyes burning with need. She wanted to forget the bloody mess she had left behind at Castle Volkihar, and Giselle was more than happy to help her in that endeavor. They managed to get to her private chambers before they lost control over themselves. Bolting the bedroom door shut was the last thing Giselle was able to do before Serana was trying to divest her of her fur lined clothes.

The next coherent thought she had was staring up at the stone and wood ceiling, wrapped equally in the heavy blankets and the pale skinned woman next to her, who looked quite content. "You weren't kidding Serana." Giselle groaned in pleasant exhaustion, fighting sleep as she kissed the vampire's lips once more, smiling as she tasted herself on Serana's lips. "Remind me not to leave you alone like that again."

"I don't plan to leave again, so you won't have to." The vampire whispered, running a finger down Giselle's face before letting her fingertip stop on her bottom lip, where a drop of blood lingered. The side of her neck still tingled from where the dunmer had bitten down in a moment of uncontrollable passion, the small break in her skin having long since healed. "For losing your ability to feed, you still have a tendency to bite." She teased, before moving closer and letting her tongue dance across the dark elf's bottom lip, taking back that small bit of herself from her lover.

"A bad habit I got from you." Giselle countered, a twinkle in her brown eyes before she slowly sat up and grabbed a simple robe from a nearby hook on the wall. The dark green fabric wouldn't have been her first pick of color, but the texture was soft and warm, so she didn't complain as she watched Serana sit up in their bed. Before she even opened her mouth, Serana's contented smirk disappeared, all but reading her mind about what she was about to bring up. "You've been quiet about all this business of leaving Tamriel behind." She winced as she was reminded of Serana's bite on her inner right thigh when she started towards the balcony doors.

"What is there to talk about Giselle? You're going, so I'm going with you." Serana stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as she joined Giselle's side just as she stepped out onto the balcony. "I have nothing in Tamriel to hold me here." The incredible view of the city and the surrounding countryside was entirely lost on the vampire, her gaze solely on the warrior that had done so much for her in such a short amount of time.

Having turned her back to the railing, Giselle looked towards Serana, who was half in and out of the open doorway. The shadows that covered her did nothing to conceal the woman from her sharp eyesight. "You say that now, but often we only realize that we miss something only after we have lost it. I don't want to send you away, but you have to be sure. I don't want to be selfish and drag you with me, if you don't really want to go."

Closing the distance between them after hastily donning a robe of her own, Serana leaned against Giselle before whispering her response, her lips just shy of her left ear. "You could never drag me anywhere I didn't want to go, because wherever you are is where I want to be. It was you that got me out of that crypt, it was you that helped me find my mother, and it was you that helped me destroy my father. Our blood was joined on the steps of that portal, and as far as I'm concerned, our destinies were also joined that night."

"And what of your mother, Serana? I know that….last time you two talked, it didn't exactly end on friendly terms." Giselle hesitantly asked, knowing the vampire's family history almost as well as she knew her own. It was a far sorer subject for Serana than it was for her, but she couldn't let it go so easily.

So she wasn't surprised when Serana took a step back and turned away from the dunmer, her head lowered so she was staring at the floor. "Whatever we had before that prophecy came into our lives, that has been dead and buried. We aren't enemies, but we aren't mother and daughter any longer. That dragon has flown." Before Giselle could try and apologize for bringing up such a sensitive topic, to offer some word of comfort, Serana turned back and grasped her outstretched hand between her own. "I know you're just concerned, but you don't have to be. Where someone else might have only seen a monster, you saw a person when you opened my coffin. You sacrificed so much, and did far more, for everyone you came across, and that is why I fell in love with you. That's why I respected your decision to cure yourself of vampirism, and why I've stayed by your side through everything. My only complaint was that you left me behind when you went after Alduin."

"I apologized for that, but as I said before, it was necessary. Alduin would have devoured you, and I couldn't take that risk. He enjoyed inflicting _faaz_...um pain upon those he deemed to be lesser beings." Which was pretty much anything not a dragon, or dovah like he had been.

Serana sighed heavily but couldn't stay angry even if she wanted to as once again, she found herself against Giselle's chest, her eyes closed and the dark elf's arms wrapped around her body. "Just don't make a habit of trying to protect me. You know I don't need you to watch out for me like I'm a child. I haven't been a child since Molag Bal came into my family's lives."

The very name of the Daedric Prince of Domination, commonly called the Prince of Rape and Subjugation, made Giselle's dragon blood boil. Her personal experience with the bastard hadn't helped her opinion in the slightest as memories of running into a shrine devoted to Molag Bal right behind a priest of Stendarr came to the surface. That hadn't gone well for either of them. And then she had found Serana, and had heard enough of Molag's involvement with Serana's transformation into a vampire to know that if, by some cruel twist, she ever met the Daedra Prince face to face, that she'd do her utmost to subjugate the Subjugator before utterly destroying him for good. The thought had her inner dragon roaring in approval.

So lost in the fantasy of laying Molag low before severing his head from his body, she almost didn't hear Serana's question. "Do you honestly think we'll be able to get back to Tamriel?"

Blinking in confusion before coming back to the present, Giselle recovered quickly and shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I don't know if we'll even find Westeros, but I'm sure of one thing Serana."

Looking up into Giselle's deep brown eyes, the somber mood disappeared when the vampire's fire filled orbs saw an all too familiar confident grin painted on her face. "And what's that my Dovahkiin?"

"That this is gonna be the adventure of a lifetime. On the other hand, you are centuries old, so I'm not sure how that counts for you." Serana could only laugh and shake her head at Giselle's joke, and the dark elf 's smirk bloomed into a full fledged grin as they returned to their bed. Serana's presence kept old, unwanted memories at bay, and her sleep was for once, complete and uninterrupted by nightmares of past battles and horrors both.

The following days were a blur as supplies were loaded onto the man-o-war. The wagon train that had followed her this far, now made their way to the docks below the fortress city's high cliff, where nearly every man, woman, and child stood and watched the flurry of activity taking place. Solitude had never been so alive, except for when the war had ended and had seen the crowning of High Queen Elisif the Fair shortly afterward.

Riding down to the docks astride a midnight black horse, appropriately named Shadowmere, Giselle couldn't have kept the grin off of her face if her life had depended on it. The clear, cloudless sky above and the cool breeze that swept down to the docks were perfect to her mind, even if the loud, joyous cheers from everyone she passed made her remember that this would most likely be the last time she'd ever see Tamriel. Even the Bards from the College had decided to show up in force, having lined up and down the path to sing her legend and deeds, the ones they knew about anyway, to anyone that paused to listen.

Despite her feelings about being such a powerful symbol to every soul in Skyrim, Giselle couldn't deny the fact that she was just as excited by what lay before them as everyone around her. Besides, seeing the ear to ear grin on Lucia's face made all the attention directed towards her more than bearable as her eyes watched the men and women that scurried about the docking area where her ship was berthed. The diagram hadn't done the vessel justice in the slightest.

Vilkas's astonished proclamation didn't come close. Having been forbidden anywhere near the recently carved out docking area for Solitude's latest creation, none of Giselle's group had been able to get near the vessel before now. Queen Elisif had wanted it to be a surprise since a simple paper drawing was nothing compared to the reality of what was floating in front of them.

The first thing the eye fell upon was the figurehead itself. As Farkas had said, the bones he had collected had been put to good use as could be seen from the roaring skeletal dragon that stared them down, the bones having been put into the forge so that nothing short of another dragon could hope to break the elaborate ram now. The outspread wings, the reaching talons, the open jaws, all of it had been perfectly crafted, and from the smug looks on Eorlond Grey-Mane and Adrianne Avenicci's faces, Giselle had a good idea who was responsible for the creation. Even the dragon tails had been put to good use as she noted the skeletal segments attached to the heavy iron anchors on both sides of the ship's bow.

The three masted ship's sails were pitch black, yet they were emblazoned with twin, pure white swords crossed at the blades. Where such a dark color would have struck a chord of fear given Alduin's black as night scales and his equally dark wings, the white swords cutting through the darkened skies were a symbol of hope and a brighter tomorrow for the people of Skyrim. The fact said swords looked like the twin blades that were prominently displayed on her belt wasn't lost on Giselle as she pulled up to the main ramp that led up to the currently unnamed ship's deck. The green skinned, muscular orcish captain was there to greet her, but he didn't immediately recognize her. "Get that damn beast out of the way! You're slowin' down our final preparations for the voyage!"

"Is that any way to talk to the woman that destroyed the World Eater, Captain?" Lydia declared with a note of anger at having her Thane treated with anything other than respect.

Before Giselle could try to restore some measure of peace, the orcish captain blinked owlishly as he realized his colossal blunder and immediately bowed deeply to the group. "Lady Morgonnis?! I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you! Please forgive my brutish behavior!"

Shaking her head and offering a warm smile to the man, Giselle dismounted from her steed before moving to help Lucia down, but she had already climbed down by then. Turning to the captain next, Giselle waved him off before turning her gaze to the ship itself. "It's fine captain gro-Malog. There's no need to apologize for a simple misunderstanding." Handing the reins of her horse over to another of the sailors, the man led the proud and powerful beast to the cargo hold where close to three dozen other horses were being led for the voyage, along with a number of domesticated beasts of burden and their respective feed. "I have to thank you for taking the job of seeing us to the end of our known world Captain. Not many would take that risk."

"You do me too much honor Lady Morgonnis. My honor as an orc of Cyrodiil demands nothing less of me. Besides, what greater honor is there than to give one's life for a cause such as this? Uh, if you'll pardon my saying so." The orc fought the urge to fall to his knees before her and Serana, realizing again that he had spoken poorly.

"Being the son or daughter of a vampire might be a rare thing, but I find your family's history to be quite fascinating. I only wish I had been able to meet the Gray Prince myself, so that I could have convinced him not to lay down his life as he did." Serana said, much to gro-Malog's surprise at the warm and compassionate words she had bestowed upon him. Harkon, despite all of his faults, had kept a record of every noble vampire lord and lady, and Serana had stumbled upon the tome in the castle library. When she had learned the name of the captain, she had shown the entry to Giselle, and had shared the story of the Gray Prince. An orcish gladiator champion, Agronak gro-Malog had let the Heroine of Kvatch, a dunmer maiden that had rose up during the Oblivion Crisis, kill him when he had found out his origins, but not before he had fathered a couple of children of his own with a few of his former fans.

"Be it as it may Lady Volkihar, our mixed blood has been a stain on my family's name, but I'll...take your words under advisement." The orc replied with some hesitance as he rubbed the back of his bald head, torn between dueling emotions that consisted of a warmth he wasn't familiar with and embarrassment at having insulted two of the most powerful women he had ever met. "An-anyway, once we're finished loading the last of our supplies, we can sail once we get a name for this giant tub."

Running a hand along the oak and metallic reinforced hull, Giselle looked to Captain gro-Malog before turning her gaze back to the hull. The orc and many of the sailors around him, weren't prepared for the thunderous boom of her voice when she spoke again, having gathered a miniscule amount of power she possessed before focusing it into a Thu'um. "_**Oldoz Kreniik!**_" Where the Thu'um touched the hull, the same words she had spoken seemed to burn themselves into the wood before turning a glowing light blue, where they remained and continued to glow with a light and life of their own. "It means Horizon Breaker in the common tongue."

"By the Nine Divines." It was the only thing gro-Malog could say as he reached out to touch the name that she had bestowed upon his ship, only to jerk his hand away at the last second. "No, I won't sully the blessing you've given this old captain by running my greasy fingers over the hull. Now, unless you plan to send me to an early grave with a smile on my face by calling down a dragon to send us off, I propose we get a move on before the tide changes and we're stuck here."

"By your leave Captain." Giselle said with a grin as she let the man lead the way, half tempted to call down Odahviing just to see if the orc would indeed keel over. As if reading her mind, Serana chuckled and shook her head. "You know me too well." Lucia giggled when Serana merely rolled her eyes at having her suspicions confirmed.

The final hours passed entirely too quickly before the crew of the newly christened Horizon Breaker was sent on their way amidst the roaring cheers of the people of Solitude that watched the proud vessel start its long voyage into the unknown. Only Queen Elisif stood silent as she looked on from one of the balconies to the palace, silently praying to the gods that they'd make it to their destination safely.

_End Notes; CUE EPIC SEAFARING MUSIC! Pirates of the Caribbean theme or end credits work either way._

_First off, I want to thank __**Nomad-117**_ _and __**Archer83**_ _for helping me come up with a name for the man-o-war. Nomad pointed me towards a Dovahzul translator that I'll most likely be using quite a bit from here on out. And before anyone asks, I DO plan to include the dragons you can befriend or command into service, I just don't want to have them become a crutch of sorts for crushing all opposition in Westeros, so don't expect to see them often. Even when I was able to get the dragon out of the Soul Cairn, (part of the Dawnguard DLC for those that don't know,), I only used him once because he was so damn strong, and it made the game too easy. Dragon Aspect makes you all but invincible anyway, what need do I have for friggin dragons on top of that? D_

_As for the connection to Oblivion with one of my favorite characters from the Arena questline, I always liked Agronak gro-Malog, and his death felt cheap and his life wasted for the simple fact he was part vampire. Still, on the other hand, I couldn't blame him for wanting to die, but still, there had to be another way, so I came up with a sort of compromise lol. He might pop up every now and again as a side character, so look forward to the old orc's great grandson playing a role of some importance down the line. His is not the only connection I plan to make to Oblivion._

_Rest assured, the actual crossover will be coming in either the next chapter or the one after that. For now, simply enjoy the show and don't get TOO attached to everyone. This is paired with GoT after all. 'Evil grin'._


	3. Bridging the Horizon

**DoctorEagle: (For those music fans out there, try the Black Flag soundtrack from Assassin's Creed while reading.)**

**Sailing past Altmora.**

Another three and a half weeks passed as they cleared the continent of Altmora and left it far behind. Kynareth, one of the Nine Divines, apparently decided to show them great favor and had filled the Horizon Breaker's sails with a constant breeze that sped their progress along. Their voyage had been uneventful, and while the journey itself had been without incident, ship life had proven to be its own kind of adventure. The running and maintenance of the mighty vessel was an ongoing affair, depending on the situation. Ropes had to be rigged and put into their proper places just to even begin to turn the ship this way or that, sails adjusted, the wheel turned or held in place, and that was just for the process of maneuvering the Horizon Breaker. Casting out the nets to gather fish and other aquatic life from the sea was its own chore, but regardless of the work involved, gro-Malog's crew were more than up to the task.

The days were filled with singing, and back breaking labor that they went to with gusto, and the nights were spent to prepare for the next morning as the crew and their passengers feasted and sang together in good company. Drinking contests were a regular occasion, as were a number of games of chance and skill, all of it allowed so long as it didn't interfere with the running of the ship or put anyone in mortal peril.

And every morning saw Giselle standing on the topmost deck as far out on the bow as she could go without slipping off the edge. Looking out into the distance with the waves crashing against the Breaker's hull while the ship itself rocked to and fro, Giselle found it all quite peaceful and soothing to her draconic soul. For too long she had been at war with someone in her life. This quiet voyage, despite heading into lands uncharted and dangers unknown, was exactly what she needed.

Grabbing a hold of the rigging above her with one hand, Giselle dug into her simple shirt until her fingers locked around the amulets she wore around her neck. The first one she found was one she had forged and enchanted herself to protect against magical assaults. It had a single, flawless emerald in the center of the gold and silver filigree pendant. While it wasn't her best creation, it was by far one of the most ornate she had made with her own hands. One unlucky bandit had tried to rip it off of her neck in the midst of combat, but she had put a stop to that idea when she had opened his throat with a swing of her sword. Even now, under the right light, she was certain she could see specks of blood that refused to leave the amulet no matter how much she tried to clean it. Serana had jokingly called the amulet Coldharbour's Kiss, partially because of the shock and ice wards she had woven into the metal, and partly because of Giselle's complaint over the specks of blood she was certain still tarnished the otherwise beautiful amulet.

Letting the amulet fall back under her shirt, where it belonged, Giselle stopped when her gaze fell on the simple gold ring on her right hand. She was so used to seeing a dragon scale gauntlet over her fingers, that she had almost forgotten about the gold band that Serana had given to her on the day they had made their love official before all of Skyrim. Just looking at it brought a different kind of warmth and serenity to her being as she looked over her shoulder and saw her vampiric lover talking to Delphine by the main mast. Despite their difference of opinion regarding what should have been done with Paarthurnax, the Blade had finally decided to let the matter drop at Esbern's insistence, and had followed the Dovahkiin as a member of her recently reinstated Dragonguard.

Considering the Blades had once protected the Emperor, a tradition that had started long ago with the rising of the first of the Dragonborns, it had made sense to the Loremaster, Esbern, to send Delphine along. While she wasn't the only Blade onboard the Horizon Breaker, Delphine was the only one that wore the traditional Akaviri fashioned armor on a regular basis. The rest of the Dragonguard were keeping a low profile, but Giselle could see three of the seven just from her spot on the deck.

All of that was a distant concern however when her fingers locked around the silver chain of a plain, unmarked steel locket, shaped to mirror the twin moons in the sky bordering on an eclipse. Running her fingertips over the plain surface, Giselle sighed as memories of her childhood came up to the surface unbidden.

_Cyrodiil had been her home for the better part of two decades, where her father had worked the Imperial mines while her mother had tended a bar in the capital. The Thalmor might have made life difficult for some, but they hadn't bothered her or her folks all that much, so there hadn't been any reason for concern at the time. All of that had changed one autumn afternoon however._

_The Morgonnis family trouble began when the mine collapsed, trapping and killing close to a dozen people, three of which had been Thalmor overseers. It didn't take long for the Thalmor to start pointing fingers, and since her father had been in charge in some limited capacity, his head had been the first on the chopping block. The bar her mother worked had been burned down under mysterious circumstances, but rumor had it that it had been payback by the Thalmor for the death of their people. It hadn't been enough to execute her father, they had wanted to make sure the people were cowed into submission, and what better way to do that than to kill the daughter to the Heroine of Kvatch? The thought she was connected to such a prestigious line had offered no comfort then, just as it didn't offer any comfort now._

_Thinking back on it, Giselle found it a cruel irony that she had almost died in a similar fashion when she had tried crossing the border into Skyrim shortly after her parents' deaths. The Imperial ambush that had captured Ulfric Stormcloak, a couple of his fellow officers, and anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the same area, had been executed with seamless precision. She had had no idea she was in trouble until she had been hit in the back of her head by a passing soldier._

_Waking up in the wagon that had been bound for Helgen, Giselle had remained silent throughout the entire ride, even as one of the other prisoners tried to get her to talk before he had turned his attention to a horse thief once it became clear she was in no mood for idle banter. The gagged and bound Ulfric had only grunted when the conversation had briefly turned to him._

_She had known what was in store for them long before the Stormcloak rebel had confirmed it for the cowardly thief, who had started to bawl like a child. So when it came time for him to have his head removed from his shoulders, she hadn't been the least bit surprised that he attempted to run. He hadn't gotten far before he was shot in the back by one of the Imperial soldiers._

_When asked for her name, Giselle had stared down the man with his damn list and had given him more than that. "I am the last of the Morgonnis line. My name is Giselle Morgonnis, daughter to Kylius and Inera Morgonnis. And if that doesn't strike a chord, perhaps this will. My grandmother was the same woman that helped stop the Oblivion Crisis, so you better hope your executioner doesn't miss, because if he does, I will be back. And you'll be sorry." She hadn't raised her voice, not once, but the Imperial before her had stepped back as if she had started blowing smoke out of her ears. Even the Redguard woman that had been overseeing the executions paused, a flicker of uncertainty appearing on her face before she regained control and, though Giselle's name was not on the list, sent her to the block._

_Staring up at the sky past the giant of a man with the heavy iron ax, Giselle sighed heavily, hating herself for allowing this to happen. Just as the headsman prepared to bring his ax down on her though, the most unexpected thing happened. A roar echoed down from the nearby mountain range, and a shadow, black as night, fell over the crowd before it landed on the tower that overlooked the execution ground. With a roar, the winged beast opened its mouth, just as someone screamed a name, identifying what had appeared. A dragon had returned to terrorize Skyrim. The dragon shouted a command in a language that felt strangely familiar to her, and Giselle could only watch in horror as the skies began to rain down fire upon them all._

"Dovahkiin." Turning her gaze away from the locket in her grasp, Giselle met Delphine's unapproving gaze and sighed, having a feeling she knew what was on the woman's mind. Despite her years of successfully evading the Thalmor, the Blade was at times utterly predictable. "Do you plan to stare off into the distance forever?" She asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared daggers at Giselle. "Perhaps if you aren't too busy contemplating something so profound that it would likely go over my head, maybe you can tell me why we're being followed?"

"What?" Giselle blinked before following Delphine towards the stern, where Serana and the rest of her Dragonguard were currently looking towards a distant speck on the seemingly endless ocean. "How long has it been there?" The dunmer asked once she noted the ship that was slowly but surely gaining on them.

"We don't know, but the fact it's been gaining on us worries me." Having lost some of the hard edge around her eyes, Delphine produced a long, metal tube from a hidden pouch in her armor, and handed it to Giselle. "I can't see the sigil on their sails, but I think I know who it is. Our old friends the Thalmor. The ship certainly matches their design"

"Elenwen." Giselle growled, having had a feeling the Thalmor 'Ambassador' would rear her ugly head at some point. While seeing her on the open ocean was unexpected, it wasn't unsurprising either given how the Dragonborn had interfered and ended the war far too early for the Thalmor's liking. A divided Skyrim and their neighbors would have provided a far easier victory for a second invasion by the Aldmeri Dominion. "It seems she doesn't know when to give up. We need to prepare for battle."

"A decisive action from you? Never thought I'd see the day." Delphine didn't get far before Giselle stopped her by squeezing her armored shoulder.

"When are you going to let it go in regards to my decision to allow Paarthurnax his life?" The dunmer asked through clenched teeth, her brown eyes alight with annoyance and frustration at having to deal with this yet again. "We have enough enemies without continuing this pointless debate Delphine."

"Forgive me for wanting to make sure we didn't leave another Alduin a chance to run amok and destroy everything we fought for." Delphine hissed as she jerked her arm free of Giselle's grasp before she rounded on her. "Try looking through all those memories you have from the dragons you _did _slay, _Dragonborn_. Maybe you'll find your lizard master isn't all he's made himself out to be these days."

"I have seen the crimes you've said he had committed long ago Delphine, but they were so far in the past that no one remembers them. No one but the Blades, who have allowed their hatred for the _dovah _to overrule their common sense." Master Arngeir would have been proud of her at that moment. He hadn't been happy about her association with the Blades, nor had he been happy about her asking about Dragonrend, a Shout that had been created by mortal men for the sole purpose of bringing a dragon down. They had argued quite a bit on both matters, but another of the Greybeards had stepped in on her behalf in regards for the Shout she had needed to bring Alduin down. The Blade matter she had settled on her own, just as she planned to do now. "I understand why you wanted him dealt with Delphine, but you forget that I'm not exactly free of past sins either."

Delphine looked away then, and could only nod her head since Giselle was right. If anyone deserved the benefit of the doubt after having learned of her Dovahkiin's whole history, it was Giselle, and by conjunction, the dragon they had left alive back in Skyrim. "I'm sorry, my Dovahkiin." The Blade said at last, but was surprised to see a warm smile tug at the corners of the dark elf's lips.

"It's alright, Delphine. I'm glad that you're so honest with me about everything these days, but living in the past won't help you or anyone else. I know that better than most." With that, she turned back to the approaching dark speck on their tail, and nodded her head before she handed Delphine's telescope back. "On that note, if Elenwen wants a repeat of the past, I'm more than happy to give it to her. Spread the word and have everyone prepare for boarders. We're going to put a stop to Elenwen once and for all. But make sure the Captain doesn't stray from our present course. I have a feeling time is running short." Delphine once again nodded her head before running off to carry out the Dragonborn's orders.

Having stayed silent throughout the brief argument between her Thane and Delphine, Lydia approached Giselle just as she started to turn back to the black dot that was starting to take shape. "I was afraid for a moment that you were going to Shout her into the water, my Thane."

"For a moment I almost did." Giselle replied, a brief grin appearing on her face that didn't reach her eyes. "Go to Lucia, keep her safe until this mess is taken care of. And Lydia…." Giselle pulled the Nord woman close so she could whisper her next command into her ear. She didn't want it becoming common knowledge that they had the Dark Brotherhood on board. "Talk to Nazir if you see him. Have the Brotherhood prepare for Morag Tong assassins amidst the Thalmor soldiers. I don't want to leave anything to chance." It wouldn't surprise Giselle if the Tong, a rival group of assassins that had been at war with the Dark Brotherhood for centuries, had been hired by Elenwen. If she were in the Thalmor's shoes, it would have been something she'd do.

"Of course." Was all Lydia said before she too ran off with Giselle right behind her. Their quarters were below decks, on the first floor near the captain's quarters. The Dark Brotherhood enclave that had joined her for the trip were near the bottom of the massive vessel, in an out of the way place where few people would ever venture, and it suited the assassins that were loyal to the Listener just fine.

As soon as she entered her private quarters, Giselle stopped and stared at the sight that greeted her. Serana smirked as she waved her hand over the suit of armor that she had already pulled out of the heavy iron chest they had all but dragged out of Proudspire Manor. "Were you expecting anything less Giselle?"

"No, I've pretty much gotten used to you spoiling me." She countered with a grin before stripping out of her simple clothes. "We need to hurry. Where's Lucia? I want her with Lydia as soon as she gets back up here."

"The last time I saw her, she was playing with some of the other children down in one of the lower decks." Serana stated as she helped the dunmer change into her dragonscale armor. The chestplate was always the most difficult given the sheer weight of it, but with a vampire holding it in place, what would have taken four men was done with one as it was buckled and cinched into place before the rest of the outfit followed in rapid succession.

Giselle stared deep into Serana's eyes once the dragon scaled helmet was secure and pulled her close, her covered forehead resting against her vampire lover's head. "Alright. As soon as you get changed, meet me on the top deck. Be careful Serana."

"You too." With a quick kiss to her lips, Giselle made a beeline for the top deck, leaving Serana to change in peace. Any other time she might have stayed to watch her change, but becoming distracted now was the last thing they needed considering who was coming after them, again.

Once she was back on deck, Giselle checked back at the trailing Thalmor ship. The distance hadn't changed between them, thank the gods, but that could soon change. The wind could change to favor the Thalmor forces trailing them, they could run aground on a reef, or if they were very unlucky, Elenwen could decide to forgo the chase altogether and summon some magical calamity on them all.

"gro-Malog!" The orc raised his head from the wheel and looked for the source of the shout. He didn't have to look for long when his eyes fell on the Dragonborn, who looked downright terrifying in the bones of her prey. "Keep as much distance between us and the Thalmor. I don't have to tell you what's at stake if we lose this race!"

"Aye ma'am! You heard her you dogs! All sails down! All sails down!" The orc's voice dwarfed her own in that instance, but she didn't mind in the slightest as the crew scurried about the rigging above like a swarm of wasps. Before long, all the sails were completely unfurled and their pace increased accordingly, leaving the Thalmor in their wake. But no one breathed any easier even as the distance between them lengthened with every passing minute. Turning to Giselle once more, gro-Malog could read her concern on her face since it was the same that was on his own. "So long as the wind holds, nothing short of some Oblivion cursed magic can hope to slow us down now."

"That's what I'm afraid of, captain." she said, continuing to look towards the stern of the ship, where the Thalmor had since disappeared out of even her sight. So long as the wind held, the advantage was theirs, but she had never relied on luck alone. Nocturnal was a fickle mistress even at the best of times. No, she'd keep an eye on the horizon, and hope that her preparations weren't needed.

She should have known better. "Giselle! Morag Tong have boarded the lower decks!" Mjoll the Lioness shouted, a dagger embedded in her upper right arm between the steel plates of her armor. "They must have rowed up to our hull while our attention was focused on the Thalmor vessel!"

_Elenwen, you bitch!_ "Get below now!" Giselle growled low in her throat as she leaped from the starboard shroud onto the deck and led a handful of soldiers below. She hoped Nazir and his fellows could hold them off until she arrived. It came as no surprise that they'd pull something like this. She couldn't count the number of times they had tried to kill her back on Solstheim.

Halfway between the fourth and fifth deck, she found her first enemy. The dual daggers the man wielded had already claimed several of the men onboard, but when he turned to face her, his bravado died in his throat when he realized too late who his next opponent was.

She didn't give him a chance to surrender. "_**ZUN HAAL VIIK!**_" When his daggers flew from his hands, she followed up her Disarm Shout by crossing her dragon bone blades at his neck. His head rolled free of his shoulders the next instant, but she didn't bother to admire her handiwork. A second intruder ran down the cramped hallway towards Giselle. This time, her enemy was a woman. The assassin had forgone any semblance of caution as she raised a heavy battle axe and tried to bring it down, but Giselle was ready as she side stepped the overhead swing before shoving her right hand blade through the woman's jaw and into the base of her brain. A sudden pain shot into her left knee. She looked down, and growled her annoyance when she saw someone had put a steel crossbow bolt just below her dragon scale knee guard. She had admire the marksmanship, but that thought soon fled as she sheathed a blade and gripped the bolt before ripping it free with a hiss of pain. The archer was more than a little surprised when he found his own bolt in his neck from Giselle's crossbow.

Spinning on her heel, she fired a second bolt, which found a new home in another Tong assassin's chest. "Amateurs." Nazir stated with a snort of derision, having seemingly appeared out of thin air. He wiped fresh blood from off his scimitar, "Glad to see you haven't grown soft, old friend."

In a flash, Giselle had readied another bolt and had fired over the Redguard's left shoulder. The Morag Tong's body went limp and flopped to the ground, a quivering steel bolt embedded between his eyes. "You missed one." Giselle grinned at the annoyed glare Nazir threw her way, not because she had saved his life, but because she had stolen his kill.

"I knew he was coming." he muttered, "I just wanted him to think he could get close."

Her amusement was short-lived when the whole ship began to shake violently. A few seconds later, a torrent of water came rushing down the hallway. "BREACH!" came the shout from the decks. Nazir didn't need to be told what to do as he disappeared, no doubt to see to the safety of the Night Mother's coffin, as well as rest of their brothers and sisters, while Giselle ran down to the lower decks to see if she could somehow seal a hull breach.

"Bastards blew themselves to Oblivion! This was their plan all along!" Farkas shouted over the roar of water that was rushing into the lowest of the decks.

"How bad is the damage?!" Giselle shouted back, her brown eyes sweeping the waves that were already up to their knees as Farkas led the way to the hole itself.

"It's filling up the hull! Slowing us down! If we don't get this hole closed up, we'll soon be sinking down to the depths!" The Companion replied before putting his immense bulk against the door that had slammed shut when the water had begun to rush into the Breaker's hull. The iron and wooden door shattered under his strength, allowing the Harbinger easy access to the room beyond.

The damage was indeed severe, but it wasn't beyond repair if they acted quickly. She ignored the pieces of several Morag Tong assassins that floated in the water around her as she moved to get a closer look at the damaged hull. Just as Farkas had said, they had purposely detonated themselves, and had blasted three considerable sized holes in the hull while a number of smaller cracks spiderwebbed away from the damaged areas. "I might be able to freeze the breached area over, but we'll have to move quickly to shore up the holes because I don't think the ice will remain for long, even with the power of a Thu'um behind it!"

"I'll round up some men, Harbinger! Just get it sealed!"

_No need to tell me what I already know, Farkas._ Giselle bit back the retort as she instead focused on the task at hand. She'd need as much of her strength for this as she could gather, but time was short and growing shorter. She cleared her mind, focused on what she understood of the words associated with frost and ice, and shouted, "_**LIZ SLEN NUS**__!"_ The effect was nearly instantaneous as the temperature in the cabin dropped like a stone. The water that was rushing into the ship from two of the three holes froze, forming into a sharp nest of spikes that seemed to reach out for her while the water around her feet also froze over, becoming just as frigid yet still. It would have to do as Farkas, true to his word, returned with a repair crew moments later. When the men stopped to stare at the oddity before them, the dunmer rounded on them. "Don't just stand there, move it! The lives of everyone on board rest upon you!"

She didn't stay around to make sure they finally got to work. Farkas would see to that himself. She needed to make sure no more Tong assassins remained. She quickly ran through the lower and upper decks, and besides news that more of the Tong had fallen to their efforts, there were no more holes to worry about. While their plan had met with some success, the Morag Tong had ultimately failed when the last of their number had fallen to the true people of Skyrim.

Despite their success, the repairs and the draining of the water was slow going. Returning to the topmost deck revealed that for all of their efforts, Elenwen's own vessel had started to gain on them once more. When gro-Malog noticed Giselle standing by the helm once more, he hesitantly spoke up. "Remind me never to invite trouble by opening my big mouth, Lady Morgonnis."

"There's no need to be contrite, Captain. This was Elenwen's doing, not yours. We can only move on and prepare for whatever comes from here." Giselle stated in turn, her eyes on the black Thalmor vessel that was the source of their woes at the moment.

"How much longer do we need to sail?" gro-Malog asked, "I don't think our ship could withstand another attack."

"She will withstand. She must." Giselle replied, "as for how long we must go on, I honestly don't know. Just hold our course steady, Captain. Let me and mine worry about Elenwen."

"Very well Dragonborn." If anyone else had told him to keep going, gro-Malog would have told them to go to Oblivion while he got his men off the vessel before it was sunk. But he knew the deeds the dunmer had accomplished, and he believed that if anyone could get them out of this, it would be her. Besides, he was an orc, living old enough to see his grandchildren would only destroy what honor he had in the eyes of his god and his own people. _If nothing else, this will make a good story for when I do fall to the Thalmor or I'm dragged down into the depths._ The orc captain thought as a thin smirk tugged at his lips.

A few minutes later, Farkas came walking up onto the quarterdeck, "Harbinger, wounded are being treated as we speak, and the holes are sealed for now."

"Any casualties?"

"A handful of the captain's runts. We got off lightly, Brelyna didn't make it though."

Giselle cursed and sighed heavily, having grown fond of the dunmer mage. "What about the damage, will it affect our speed?"

Farkas nodded, "The hull was filled with water, so we'll be slowed down considerably. And that's if the Thalmor don't destroy our sails as well."

Giselle cursed under her breath again before she looked back at the gaining Thalmor ship. "Sneaking men aboard was a risky venture, so that means Elenwen's desperate. I doubt all of our interference helped her standing with the Dominion. Such a tactic wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility if that's the case." On the other hand, from what she knew of ship warfare, such a tactic as destroying an enemy's sails was quite common. Right behind bringing down the masts. It'd slow them down to a dead crawl if the Thalmor succeeded, but Giselle didn't plan to let them get within shooting distance. But her thoughts were completely derailed when she looked up at the sun, and frowned when she noticed that too much time seemed to have passed. "Farkas, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it early morning just a little bit ago?"

"Huh? We're running from that Thalmor bitch and you're worried about the time?" Farkas shot her a dubious glare, before following her gaze. He had to blink when he swore he saw a spectral hand reaching out towards the sun itself, as if adjusting the celestial body's position in the heavens, before his vision adjusted and the hand had disappeared. But Giselle was right. The sun wasn't in the right place for the amount of time that had passed. When he made the same connection, Farkas could only blink his eyes. "What in Ysgramor's name is going on?"

"I don't think Ysgramor had anything to do with this." While she kept her suspicions to herself, Giselle had a pretty good idea of who was responsible for the far too fast progress of the sun across the sky. And while the passage of time seemed eschew, it wasn't the only odd thing that she noted as she went to the bow of the ship, hoping a different position would offer some insight to their current predicament, but what it offered was only more concern.

Storm clouds had begun to form ahead of their current course. As if they didn't have enough problems, now they had to contend with the weather as well? The clouds that formed were black and thick as smoke, and bolts of red and purple lightning began to dance across the sky. The air quickly became charged with the storm's impending rage, but not a single drop of rain was let loose. That in itself was strange enough, but what was truly out of the ordinary was the fact the storm clouds were going against the wind, something that shouldn't have been possible under normal circumstances. The sailors and soldiers onboard watched as the supernatural storm gained strength and began to grow ever darker.

"Are you certain you want us to sail into _that _Lady Morgonnis?!" gro-Malog pointed to the storm that was bearing down on them, his eyes as big as saucers while a cold sweat broke out along his green skin. "That is the work of some Daedric Prince, I'd stake my soul on it!"

"As would I, but if they think that is going to stop me, they are sorely mistaken!" Even when a bolt of red lightning split the water in front of the Horizon Breaker's stern, Giselle didn't move a muscle. If anything, the challenge was met with a roar of defiance from her own throat that drowned out the resounding boom from the thunderclap that followed. Even when she thought she could hear a dark incantation on the wind, Giselle's brown eyes never left the storm front as it descended over them, cutting off the light of the failing sun completely. The lightning provided its own light though as it continued to dance and slam into the ocean, the waves rolling and becoming more turbulent as they sailed deeper into the maelstrom.

Just when fear nearly broke gro-Malog's resolve and he was just turning to shout an order to change their direction, the clouds parted before them. "By the Nine." Was all he could think to say as he and the rest of the people aboard looked up at the sky in wonder. There, in all of their majesty, hung the twin moons that had watched over the lands of Nirn since time immemorial.

"And here I thought I had seen everything." Serana stated, having joined them on the deck with an equally amazed Lucia in tow. Only Giselle noticed it when the elder vampire licked her bottom lip clean of the last remnants of her most recent meal, no doubt having ripped a Morag Tong's throat out during the fighting.

"Why are they aligning like that, mama?" The girl asked, having pointed to the twin moons which, sure enough, were forming into a single orb with the smaller of the two in front.

Going to Lucia's side, Giselle could only shrug her shoulders as she looked up at the sight, having forgotten all about the Thalmor pursuing them. When the twin moons were perfectly aligned, the entire sky became pitch black for a moment before a bright, pure white light consumed the moons. A single beam of energy slammed into the ocean, and began to expand into a triangular shape far in the distance. The front wall of light darkened, but the outline was still visible for miles around, but it was what they could see within the light that had them slack jawed all over again.

A single moon, alone in a sky that was nothing like their own, could be seen staring back at them. It hung in a completely different colored sky. Where the skies of Tamriel were always alive with vivid color, streaks of red, purple, and dark blues, the sky behind the portal was simply black and bare, save for a few faint stars that they could barely see.

**DoctorEagle says: ((The High Seas from AC4: Black Flag fits quite well here.))**

When she recovered, it was Giselle that took charge of the situation. "There, my fellow people of Skyrim! There is the end of our journey at last! I know I have asked a great deal already, but we are too close to give up now! Full speed ahead!"

"Full speed!" gro-Malog shouted, his hope restored. The sailors cheered as they adjusted the sails, crawling up the ropes and shrouds. The ship began to pick up speed and cut across the once more peaceful ocean waves at a brisk pace. But the Thalmor still gained ground, and had closed the distance between them to the point that even the worst sighted among them could see the silhouettes of the proud and haughty elven warriors. The sight of the lunar gate had spurred them on, and they had used the time the crew of the Horizon Breaker had stood around staring to catch up to their prey.

"Serana, get Lucia below deck now!" Serana didn't waste time with words as she and Lucia disappeared below decks. It was just as well, because Elenwen and her Thalmor had gotten within shooting distance at last.

Giselle didn't need to see who stood on the bow of the Thalmor vessel. She knew Elenwen was glaring daggers at her. Giselle considered speaking to her, but decided against it at the last moment. There was nothing either of them could say that would end this peacefully, of that Giselle was certain. As if to prove that thought, several thunderbolts leapt from the hands of several members of the Thalmor crew, and came flying across the water.

The attack was answered when their two vessels fell in line side by side, when dozens of hatches were raised on the Horizon Breaker's hull. "FIRE ALL!" Giselle and the orc captain shouted together, just as an array of their own magical spells and enchanted bolts from Dawnguard crossbows, slammed into the smaller ship. Wood splintered and people died under the far larger volley that the man o' war was able to put out. Multicolored explosions of light followed everywhere their missiles struck, shattering man and hull alike like so much chaff.

But Elenwen wasn't without her tricks. Even as those around her were brought low by the withering assault and they were forced to fall back, she stood arrogant and proud as her magical wards absorbed the worst of the attack to her person. "You have stood in my way for the last time, Morgonnis! Unleash the atronachs!" Several mages that had also weathered the first of their volleys began chanting, gathering power for their summonings.

Giselle wasn't going to allow them to summon a single creature, not if she had anything to say about it. Once their ships were close enough for either side to jump to the other deck, they would be in danger, and with the Thalmor gaining ground, it would be a matter of minutes before they were within striking distance again. She needed to end this, now.

_Burn them. Consume them in your wrath! Unleash your might against these pathetic beings!_ The thrill of battle hadn't gone unnoticed by her dragon soul, and the powerful urge to completely crush her enemies was almost too much to bear. But bear it she did as Giselle growled her defiance at the force she contended with every waking hour, and instead focused her fury into something far less destructive but no less effective. Turning to the crew, her people, Giselle took strength from them, in their belief that she'd see them through this trial, before turning her brown eyes on Elenwen's vessel. Once more, she concentrated on the Words in her possession, and focused everything she had into the Shout that poured out of her mouth. "_**FUS RO DAH!"**_

The Thalmor Ambassador never knew what hit her. All she saw was a wall of some spell that distorted the air around it before it slammed into the center of her craft, almost splitting the hull in twain. Her crew were scattered like leaves as the sheer power of the Dragonborn's shout sent them tumbling in all directions, most of them disappearing into the ocean, never to be seen again. Elenwen herself didn't know she was screaming until she was panting for air, a foot long piece of timber having found its way into her left shoulder while she laid sprawled out on her back on what was left of the top deck. While she'd live to fight another day, Elenwen could only watch in impotent rage as the Horizon Breaker reached the lunar portal, and promptly disappeared.

**Westeros**

The crew of the Horizon Breaker were cheering with all of their hearts as they cleared the portal, and wound up on the other side moments later. Giselle's use of her Shout against the Thalmor had driven the men and women under her banner to a fever pitch as they chanted her name. "Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin!" They felt invincible, utterly unstoppable, and really, why shouldn't they? They had done the impossible. They had found Westeros and lived to tell the tale, but Giselle knew their trials were only just beginning. As much as she wanted to share in the celebrations, she could not in good conscience bring herself to lift her voice in cheer at having made it this far. Partly because of her own struggle against the dragon soul she possessed, but mostly because the price they had paid had almost been too much to bear. They had lost good people already, and they were bound to lose more before this was over.

As the lunar gate shut behind them, Giselle took up a position by the captain and prepared to address her fellow men and women of Skyrim. A hand on her arm stopped her however, and she turned to see Lydia, who only shook her head before waving her arm over the gathered. "Let them have their moment of celebration and good cheer, my Thane. The dawn and all that it brings can wait until then." Giselle could only smile in thanks to the woman, glad that she had agreed to follow her into this latest adventure. As if reading her mind, Lydia leaned on the railing that surrounded the helm and smiled down at one Nord in particular as he led a group of sailors in song. It was a song about a braggart warrior called Ragnar the Red, and considering that Elenwen had had a tendency to run her own mouth as well, Giselle found it rather fitting.

"Even though we've won," Lydia noted, "I almost wish we had had a chance to claim Elenwen's head."

"I almost wish someone would silence Vilkas's singing. It sounds like someone's strangling a skeever." Giselle chuckled despite her dark mood, and laughed outright when she felt Lydia's elbow dig into her armored side. "You know I'm right, old friend."

Lydia had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the smirk that threatened to appear on her face. "Don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want to encourage him."

"Still, you're right about one thing Lydia.", Giselle said as she turned her attention to the approaching shore. "I should let them have their time of celebration. I have a feeling the days to come won't be easy. We have a great deal to do once we make landfall, and that's assuming the locals don't try to kill us on sight."

"I'll be sure to keep the twins close. Talos knows they could start a war if given too much free reign." Lydia teased, earning another chuckle from the dunmer at her side. A moment later had their respective grins disappearing though, and Lydia turned to Giselle with a determined look on her face. "While the days ahead might be full of hardship, we are of Skyrim. We will prosper and we will rise above everything thrown against us. That, I am certain of my Thane."

"I thought it was my job to keep the people strong and full of hope?" Giselle snarked, but secretly, she was again reminded of how much it meant to her to have Lydia by her side. "Thank you, old friend. Maybe I am worrying too much? In any event, let's just hope we have a ship in the morning. Between Farkas and your husband, I'm surprised no one's broken out the Nord mead yet."

The next morning saw most of the Breaker's passengers in a state of alcohol induced delirium and pain as many gripped their heads and tried to contain the contents of their stomach. Even Giselle had, at some point, let her hair down and had drank Farkas under the table. The only unaffected member was Serana, who had had to drag an all too cheery dunmer back to their cabin, where she had promptly passed out with her boots hanging off the edge of their bed.

"What in the name of Oblivion was I doing last night Serana?" Giselle asked as she stood on shaky legs, her head having found its way into a slop bucket where she promptly threw up whatever was left of last night's dinner.

"Celebrating with the crew, my dear," Serana said, trying hard to hide the humorous glint in her eyes, even as she rubbed at the dunmer's back. "You needed to let your hair down, and I only dragged you back here when you tried to wrestle Farkas. As much fun as it might have been to see you do it, I didn't want to run the risk of him breaking you in half by accident."

"I tried to wrestle Farkas? Gods, I must have really been drunk because I don't remember anything about it." She groaned, one hand against her stomach while the other rested against the wall before her. It was all she could do to not keel over then and there. That would be an inspiring sight for the people. Their hero, the mighty Dragonborn, dead with her head in the shitter.

"Then I guess you don't want me telling you about how you started a fire on the ship with your Thu'um. You burned down all the sails."

Giselle sat up with a start, "I DID WHAT?!"

Serana chuckled, "I'm kidding."

"Remind me why I saved your ass again?" Giselle groaned again as she turned back to the bucket in front of her.

"Because you can't get enough of me," Serana planted a kiss on the back of Giselle's neck. "And because I know what it's like to fight a part of yourself." Before she could comment further, there was a soft knock on their door. Just as Giselle started to rise, Serana gently held her back before going to the door herself. It didn't take long before the door was shut once more, and the vampire was back by the dunmer's side. "The captain wanted to tell you that we've made landfall, and that Delphine has sent riders out to scout the land. So that leaves plenty of time for us."

"I should be up there." Giselle started to rise, but Serana again stopped her when the hand that fell on her shoulder froze her in place.

"No, you need to rest, Giselle. Let someone else carry your burdens for a while, my love." Serana said, before gently moving her hand from on top of the dunmer's shoulder to the small of her waist, while she draped her arm over her shoulders. "I promise, if we need another stunning display of sheer power, I'll drag you out of bed myself. But until then, let someone else take command. They'll understand, or I'll make them understand that even their mighty Dovahkiin needs to sleep sometime."

"Alright already. You're worse than my mother." Serana only chuckled and again kissed the side of her neck before helping Giselle into their bed.

Serana wasn't all that surprised that the moment her head had touched the pillow, Giselle had fallen into a deep sleep. The vampire sat patiently on the side of the bed and gently ran her fingers through lover's hair, smiling down at her before she noticed Lucia standing at the door. "She's fine Lucia, she's just sleeping off last night's little celebration. Come on, maybe we can surprise her with breakfast in bed."

"Really?" Lucia exclaimed in barely contained excitement and ran off ahead of Serana, who looked over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her. Whatever came from their time in Westeros, Serana was certain of more than a few things as well. She knew that so long as they stuck together, nothing would tear them apart, and anyone foolish enough to get in their way or tried to hurt her family would die with her teeth at their throat.

_End Notes; Vergil1989; J'zargo I'll have to look into to get his personality and all that down since I have yet to complete, let alone start, the Mage Guild questline in any of my past playthroughs of the game, so if I get him wrong, I apologize in advance. Beyondthat, I want to give a shoutout to __**Doctor Eagle**__, a fellow Elder Scrolls/GoT crossover author, for helping me with this chapter._

_As for the little sea battle against the Horizon Breaker, it wasn't that bad considering I had never done a ship fight like that before. At any rate, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as the rest of this story thus far. Leave us those wonderful reviews so we know if you folks are enjoying the show or not. Until next time, adios and may the Nine bless and guard your path!_

_DoctorEagle: It was a blast working with Vergil on this chapter. Going back and forth and sharing ideas and adding to the chapter almost simultaneously was epic fun! Hopefully we'll do it again (most likely will). Talos guide you!_


	4. Dancing on Thin Ice

_Author's Note; This chapter originally ended with Skyrim's people being forced to flee their original landing site because someone ends up stabbing them in the arse. Let's just say I was stupid in this instance and tried to rush the action, rather than build the world first. Someone rightfully said it looked like the chapter had been written by someone else, and in the light of day, I had to agree. You the reader were short changed with a poorly written facsimile. That will not be allowed to happen twice. By the old gods and new, and by the light of the Nine, I swear to deliver better than what you've been given._

_I will say this, I'm getting tired of these petty complaints in the review section. If it's not her being a vampire, it's her choice of being a lesbian. No one has considered there might be a good reason for both and more, and perhaps we just haven't gotten that far. Funny that no one seems to remember that Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell are confirmed homosexuals, and while I have nothing against it, you want to complain about my gal being of a similar nature? Can you see where you sound ridiculous and short sighted? But whatever, continue to complain, and write your own stories if you think you can do better. As for me, I'll continue to write this as I see fit, until there comes a time I move on because of petty insults outnumbering actual, meaningful reviews and actual feedback instead of the crap I've been getting. "Please update, I like the story" does not make for much motivation. I'd rather hear honest to God criticism over nothing or a simple request for more._

_As for those that have left something meaningful, thank you, truly. Your encouragement and helpful criticisms make this story better and spurs us on to actually improve ourselves. I wish more people would follow your examples, but I'll take what I can get at this point._

**Westeros.**

**Unknown.**

The following several days were a blur as the ship was unloaded and a temporary tent city was established by the shore. Scouts were constantly sent out in all directions, seeing what, if anything, was within their newly established territory that would warrant further investigation. The only things within a hard day's ride were a number of small hamlets, a castle to the east, and a small fishing village further up the coast which was hemmed in by a large wall of mountains with a number of trails winding through them. No doubt that when winter came, the passes through the range would become difficult, if not outright impassable, which made Giselle quite glad they had chosen to make camp south of the mountains that were just within sight of their current location.

Riding down one of the main thoroughfares through the sea of tents that had been pitched, the dark elf nodded her head to anyone that she passed who stopped long enough to give her a cheer or a friendly greeting. Lucia was riding next to her, a smile on her face and a song on her lips as she hummed a tune to a little ditty she had heard earlier that week. "Do you think we'll get any visitors, mama?"

"I imagine so Lucia. It won't take long for people to notice they have strangers on their shores." Giselle replied, honestly surprised they hadn't received riders with letters from their respective lords or ladies already. She knew it would only be a matter of time though, and as much as she didn't want to say it in front of Lucia, the longer it took, the better in her opinion. The fields were still being planted, the walls of their houses were still being raised, and they were still offloading their supplies from their ship. They weren't ready to defend themselves if the need arose, not by a long shot.

Stopping their horses once they had come upon a nearby hilltop, Giselle couldn't help but stare at the empty fields that rolled off into the distance. It was a beautiful if empty country. There was a low fog that covered most of the land, which brought to mind the barrows and cairns she had explored while in Skyrim, but the morning light burned the fog away, revealing the fields of grass and the occasional tree in the distance. "It's kind of dreary, mama. But it's better than being on that cramped old ship." Lucia stated, earning a light hearted laugh from the dunmer. Lucia's grin blossomed into a smile that reached both of her ears.

"Just don't let the captain hear you say that, little wing. Besides, I actually liked the voyage, although I could have done without Elenwen and her forces following us all the way out here." Of Elenwen and her ship, or rather what had been left of it after Giselle had finished with them, there was no trace. Most of the people under her banner assumed they hadn't cleared the portal before it had shut hours after they had left it behind, but she wasn't so sure. Still, the chances of Elenwen having made it through the lunar gate were slim at best, and even if she did, that didn't mean she would be any more welcome than her own people. No, she wouldn't let a ghost bother her, not when they had come so far.

Her thoughts were pleasantly interrupted when she saw a rider approaching from the east. Giselle almost sent Lucia back, but held that urge in check when she saw that the rider was alone, waving a recently sewn banner with her new sigil born on a black flag. The twin white swords, crossed at the center of a black field. The seamstress had wanted to include a dragon skull beneath the swords, but Giselle had shot that idea down, stating that not all dragons were the monsters their fallen leader had been.

"Is it Delphine?" Lucia asked, straining her eyes in an effort to see who was approaching them. Delphine had been gone since early that morning.

"No, I think it's Sven." Giselle replied, nodding her head when the rider crested the nearby hill, the morning light hitting him full on the face before he disappeared at the bottom before he stopped at the top of their hill at last. "I was starting to worry that honeyed tongue had failed you Sven."

"It almost did Dragonborn." The Bard replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Lady Dustin's a hard, bitter woman, but she's willing to open up talks with you." Giselle nodded her head, but when she noticed he looked like he had more to say, Sven hesitantly continued at her silent prompting. "I got the impression she doesn't like the family in charge of this area of what she called the Seven Kingdoms. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask, but when I inquired about the Starks, her gaze hardened and she said nothing else on the subject. If you talk to her, I'd avoid bringing it up."

"I'll keep it in mind." Giselle said, a noticeable edge to her tone as she turned her horse around and led the way back into camp while Lucia and Sven flanked her. "Is there anything else you can tell me about this Lady Dustin, anything about Westeros itself?" Giselle asked, hoping to hear any hint of what the Elder Scroll had warned them about, in this land that they found themselves in.

"Quite a bit actually. There's nothing but humans out here. And besides wolves, deer, the occasional bear, and what they call shadowcats prowling the more mountainous regions, they don't seem to have anything truly dangerous besides cutpurses, bandits, and brigands, which we're pretty used to already. All in all, we seem to have found a place that isn't riddled with monsters and undead creatures….besides Serana I mean. Uh….I'm not doing well right now am I?" Sven chuckled nervously, but visibly relaxed when he saw the playful smirk on the dunmer's face as well as the grin on her adopted daughter's.

"It's ok Sven." Giselle said, trying to ease Sven's fear before he got any more tongue tied. "I know you meant no offense. Besides, if this land is as peaceful as you claim, then we might not have as much to fear, but I still want scouts and guards posted along our borders, just in case."

"Of course, only a fool would do otherwise."

"You were a fool once." Sven looked at Lucia in mild bewilderment, but she ignored the Nord's confused expression, "Mama told Delphine how you and someone else in Riverwood were after the same woman. Didn't you try to pay her to try and talk to the girl you both wanted?"

"Uh….something like that." He and Faendal had wanted someone to deliver a letter to Camilla, and Giselle had stopped in town at the best time, or so they had thought. When Camilla had called them in the middle of Riverwood's main road, she had promptly slapped them both before storming off. Giselle had pulled a fast one on both men, and had given Camilla both letters, which had revealed how far they were willing to go to win her hand. Sven felt his cheeks flush crimson at the memory as he tried to ignore the teasing smirks on their respective faces. "I'm actually glad you talked some sense into us Giselle." Sven said at last before he rode off with all haste.

Only after he was gone did Lucia and Giselle let out a short burst of laughter. "That was cruel, Lucia." Despite her chastisement, Giselle couldn't keep a smirk from pulling at her lips as they rode back to camp at a fair slower pace. "You didn't have to tease him like that."

"I know, but he _was _a fool. Him and the other man were idiots, fighting over someone like they had some unspoken right to her." Lucia retorted, a note of disdain in her voice. Giselle found she was proud of the fact Lucia was learning to form her own opinions, since she had been careful not to sway the Nord girl one way or the other on most matters.

"You're wiser than you know Lucia." Before she could say anything more, Giselle looked over her shoulder and narrowed her brown eyes when she saw riders coming over the hill. The riders were too many for the number of scouts she had sent out, and the banners they carried were not her own. That meant Lady Dustin had sent messengers, or one of the other Northerners had sent their own people. If their intentions weren't peaceful negotiation, then she didn't want Lucia within thirty yards of the strangers. "Go back to camp, I'll be back soon." Lucia only nodded her head before riding off with all haste. She'd go to Lydia or one of their many friends, and they'd hurry back to stand beside her. All she had to do was buy some time regardless of the riders' intent.

Once the riders pulled up before the Dovahkiin, Giselle nodded her head at the leader when he introduced himself as one of Lady Dustin's bannermen. The dunmer noted the sigil, two longaxes between a black crown, for only a moment before seeing the curious look on the man's face as he let his gaze sweep over her almost pitch black skin. Despite his curiosity at her appearance, he was all business "Where is the leader of your camp? I would speak with him as soon as possible."

"You are speaking to her." Giselle stated firmly, her voice level while her brown eyes narrowed, and all but pierce through the man's armor. Considering it consisted of simple boiled leather under a brown, deerskin fur cloak, it wouldn't be that difficult for any of their weapons to pierce that armor.

"You?" The man asked, unable to keep his surprise in check.

"My man, Sven, has already told me you follow a woman of high standing. Why should it surprise you that I too am capable of leadership?"

"Lady Dustin rules in her late husband's name." That answered quite a lot of questions on how things were done in this country, and the young man realized too late he had said far too much. Giselle hid the smirk that wanted to appear on her face since he was not the first that had had such a slip of the tongue while in her presence. Her short time with the Bards had paid off dividends in her future negotiations, both with merchant and leader alike back in Skyrim.

As for why she was bitter, Giselle had a pretty good idea on that as well thanks to Sven's warning and this soldier's words, but she filed that away for future consideration. "Then I wish her luck in shedding her grief." It wasn't a wish for Dustin to find herself shackled to another man, but Giselle had phrased her comment to sound unassuming, uninsulting. Despite that, again she saw that she had taken the Dustin man off guard as he looked at her with renewed interest.

"You speak like one used to leadership. Perhaps my words were ill chosen? In any event, Lady Dustin bids you safe passage to her door so that she might meet with you in person, Lady Morgonnis was it?"

"Yes." Sven had done his job well after all. She'd have to seek him out when she returned and thank him for paving the way.

"Of what House, if I might ask?"

The question took her a moment to answer, but when she found the words, they felt right to her as she leveled her gaze on him with renewed intensity. "Tell Lady Dustin that I am the first of House _Dovahkiin_, from the province of Skyrim."

"The names do not sound familiar to me, but I will do as you ask. Welcome to Westeros, Lady Morgonnis." With that, the bannerman and his two companions turned back the way they had came, just as three of her Dragonguard rode up to the hill.

"I take it we have an audience?" Delphine asked, watching the party return to the nearby castle she had seen on her travels.

J'zargo couldn't resist the jest that poured off of his tongue a moment later. "Do you see any dead bodies, Delphine?"

"A fair point, cat." Delphine retorted, a brief grin appearing on her face.

"When you're done poking fun at me, perhaps we can get ready for this little social call?" Giselle grumbled, even as her brown eyes lit up at the good natured humor that had been made at her expense.

Sorine only shook her head as she fell in beside Giselle, one hand resting on her stomach while the other held onto the reins of her horse. "But it's such a nice change of pace from our normal routine. I usually get stuck babysitting Gunmar's trolls after a long night of drinking with you." The Dawnguard hunter and master inventor said as a chuckle escaped her lips.

"Will you let that go?" Giselle groaned, the mere mention of the party sending a brief bolt of pain through her temples. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time."

Sorine shot her an amused look before she spoke again. "And who's fault was that? I'll brawl with anyone in a fair fight Giselle, but I draw the line at doing it in the skin the Nine gave me."

"Please tell me you're joking." The dunmer fought the urge to find the nearest hole and pull a rock over the entrance as her fellow riders laughed at her embarrassment.

"She is Dragonborn, trust J'Zargo over these heathens." The Khajiit said between chuckles, unable to help himself even as he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Serana made sure you did nothing you would regret in the morning. She is a good woman, and one I am glad to have met."

"That is something we can agree on." Sorine stated, and coming from her, a vampire hunter, it was high praise indeed.

**Barrowton**

Like the lands around it, Giselle couldn't help but wonder if it was infested with the ghosts of long dead men and women from the fog that lingered even under the noonday sun. Still, no specters attacked, no wraiths wailed their chilling cries before trying to gouge their eyes out, and no draugr were shambling about with their cold blue eyes and their old but surprisingly preserved and sharp weapons.

They had plenty of living people to worry about. The strange looks their party were receiving were a mix of open curiosity and disdain, a few were outright afraid of them. It was strange, to be feared simply because you were different, but she didn't let it bother her. The people of the north were just as odd to her, so she reserved her judgment as she and her Dragonguard, all of them, rode through the castle gates in their best raiments. Well, the ones that cared about such things of course. Aela had refused to change out of her near scandalous leather armor, with its simple ties in the front that held it all together, thus revealing more than most considered proper, even in Skyrim.

Aela had summed it up best though, stating that she had nothing to hide, and if others didn't approve, they could rot in Oblivion. Farkas had laughed heavily at that, and Giselle hadn't had the heart to persuade the huntress to change into something more 'appropriate' for a day in court. As for Farkas, he was just as pig headed and had chosen to carry his skyforge steel greatsword on his back as he always did, in full view of everyone, just as Aela proudly wore her longbow on her back. It was little wonder people were giving them nervous looks since the Companions always stood out from other men and women. They always looked fierce and proud and more powerful than most, and among the folk in Barrowton, they stood a head taller than most.

But today, the Companions had competition since Delphine had returned just in time to join the entourage. She looked far more imposing than even the steel armored Farkas in her bronzed armor from Akaviri, her long katana in plain view on her hip which swung with every step of her horse. The scowl on her face only made her appear just as hard as the woman in charge here was said to be. She looked upon the castle grounds with disdain, but she kept her opinions to herself, which was a small favor in Giselle's mind. "I don't like this." She said at last, noting the unfriendly gazes from the guards that patrolled the stone walls and the ground itself. "Feels like we're walking into a trap."

"You've been running from the Thalmor too long." Gunmar stated, riding beside Sorine in the back of their little group. "The castle could use some work though. Stone looks half worn down from the elements. Almost makes me think of all those cairns back home."

"This castle was raised on the site of a mass grave, the site of an old battle, or so the legends say. The Children once held this place in great reverence." The same man that had ridden out to Giselle, had escorted them back to Barrowton. "The land around Barrowton has long since carried the name, the Barrowlands."

"That explains a lot." Sorine quipped as she shared a look with the rest of the party before she and the rest of them climbed down from their horses nearly simultaneously. "It's beautiful country though. I can see why your people have settled the area."

"Thank you m'lady. This way, your mounts will be well taken care of."

Giselle nodded her head, but she didn't leave her midnight black horse's side without a word of comfort to the powerful beast. Pulling the red eyed horse's head down so they were peering into the other's eyes, only then did Giselle speak. "Peace, Shadowmere. Do nothing unless provoked." To the man's astonishment, the horse seemed to bow her head in acknowledgment to the dark skinned woman's words before she turned on him next. "She will not harm anyone that approaches now. Your boys can tend to her needs without fear so long as they do nothing to upset her."

The man nodded, but said nothing, still in shock of the horse's appearance and intelligence. The sun had hardly passed high noon, and yet he had seen dozens of odd things since meeting these strangers. The least of which was a woman with skin grey as ash that seemed to move with a grace of a shadowcat, and she commanded great respect among her peers. Another woman that had the eyes of a wild beast flanked her right, while the woman on her left carried a shield and sword as if she were born to them. The one in bronzed armor made the most imposing impression among the group, yet it was the cat that walked as a man that was the oddest of them all, a heavy oak staff strapped to his back. The dark skinned woman was odd enough, but the cat that talked and walked like any man he had ever seen? That was something else altogether, but he tried to keep his astonishment behind a mask.

If he thought he was fooling anyone by keeping up his mask of indifference, the Dustin man was sorely mistaken as another look passed between Giselle and her eight companions as they walked into the great hall moments later. They weren't fooled, and they knew exactly the kind of image they were presenting. Despite their weakened state at having just arrived, first impressions were important, and appearing stronger than they were would hopefully deter unwanted visitors. So when they stopped before the small stone chair, where Lady Dustin herself sat before a long wooden table with her own men at arms, it was Giselle that stepped forward with Lydia and Serana at her side. "I take it you're Lady Dustin of Barrow Hall, the one the people here look to for counsel and safety?"

"I am. Your bannerman, Sven, had said you were….odd in appearance, but he understated that there's a certain grace and beauty about you." Flattery that had no warmth to it, but it was more than she had expected given Sven's warning about the woman in mourning clothes. Lady Barbrey Dustin did indeed look as cold and hard as the stone itself, but Giselle could see there was a grave intelligence behind her hard gaze. Wrinkles were prominent around her mouth and eyes, and she had equal parts brown and gray throughout her hair which was tied into a widow's knot. "Who are you, and the people you bring before me?"

"Aela the Huntress, of the Companions m'lady." The red headed woman said with pride, her wolf like eyes shining with a ferocity that had some of the Dustin men shaking in their boots.

"Farkas, twin brother to Vilkas. Companion raised and trained." The giant bear of a man rumbled, his gaze softer but no less feral than Aela's.

"Lydia, Housecarl to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater of Whiterun, and now I serve as Housecarl to Giselle Morgonnis, for services she rendered to the Jarl." The Nordic woman stated with a far quieter pride and respect, and Lady Dustin nodded her head before she leveled her gaze on the next in line.

"Gunmar, Dawnguard hunter and smith." They had talked about revealing the fact he trained trolls on the side, and had agreed it was better to keep some things to themselves.

"Sorine Jurard. Inventor, weapon smith, and another of the Dawnguard at your service m'lady." The genius if albeit paranoid Nord woman only nodded her head, but it was more than any of them had done to show some iota of expected courtesy to someone of Lady Dustin's rank.

"J'zargo, apprentice mage from the College of Winterhold. At your service, J'zargo is." The Khajiit said this time, further surprising the men of the north by the simple fact he spoke as easily as they did, even if his accent was a little strange.

"Serana Volkihar. A….long time associate and friend to the people here." As much as the vampire loved the dunmer, they had agreed that announcing it to everyone might not be such a good idea. Even in Skyrim, there had been a few people that hadn't approved of their union, and this land was far from Tamriel. The twin daggers on her hips, forged by Giselle's hand, were a different matter though. They had agreed she wouldn't go anywhere unarmed, and as a part of her Dragonguard, Delphine had approved without a second thought to the matter.

"Delphine. I am a member of Morgonnis's Dragonguard. Before that, I was a Blade, a group that once protected the Emperor of our country of Cyrodiil, which is a part of the continent of Tamriel." That bit of news caused a storm of whispers to echo around the hall Giselle's party noted how they reacted to the word, dragon, over everything else she had said, and Delphine was the first to ask the obvious question. "I take it you've heard of dragons?"

"Dragons have been dead for hundreds of years. The last ones of note died with their master, Aegon Targaryen, the Conqueror" Another of Barbrey's men stated, a bit too loudly for Delphine's liking as she turned her gaze on him next.

"Not in Skyrim." Delphine retorted to the fool that had opened his mouth. "It's the duty of a Blade to slay dragons. Just as it's a duty of a Blade to protect the Dragonborn, the legendary hero of our Nordic tradition and legends. You stand before the best dragonslayer from our homeland, so show some respect."

"Peace, Delphine." Giselle reprimanded, "They do not know of Skyrim and its beasts. Keep that in mind." Delphine only nodded her head in apology, but it was enough as the dunmer turned back to Barbrey. "In any event, we didn't come here to bore you with tales of past glories. I suspect you have a lot of questions. We'll answer what we can, in the hopes we might become allies if nothing else."

Lady Dustin took only a moment to consider her next question before she spoke once more. "Why have you come here?"

"Why have we come to you, or why have we come to Westeros? Because the first question is the easier to answer, while the second would require quite a lot of explanation." Giselle countered truthfully, her hands folded behind her back while she swept her gaze over the woman's men before turning to Barbrey last. "Yours was simply the closest of our neighbors. I have plans to talk to every Lord and Lady of the land who will receive me Lady Dustin, so in that you have my thanks already."

"And as for the reason you came to Westeros?"

Now was the time for the cover story. Delphine had insisted, strongly, that they keep their business to themselves. While Giselle had been reluctant to agree, she understood that not everyone would likely believe them if they said they were there to stop some dark, unnamed evil from wiping out everything in its path. "We're peaceful explorers. Some of us wanted to start a new life in a far away land, and Westeros was about as far as we could get."

"What are your reasons for leaving your homeland?" One of Dustin's men asked after a pregnant silence had fallen between the two groups.

Giselle thought for a moment before deciding that she didn't like the suspicion she had heard in the man's voice, and instead focused on the Lady herself. "Our reasons are our own. We came here of our own free will, but if you wish to know who gave us the means to get here, our ship was given to us by our High Queen, Elisif the Fair." Let them make of that what they will.

"We will hear them in good time, of that I am sure. But now, I think you and your… people must be hungry. You will be my honored guests. I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven. As long as you are here, no harm shall come to you."

"Thank you Lady Dustin. It'll be an honor to share your table and hearth." Giselle replied with a solemn bow to the Lady before leading her friends out of the main hall for now. For once, she was glad Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela had caught onto the need to be careful about what they said, and had assured her they'd stay away from the heavy liquor while away from their camp. Delphine was too paranoid to let anything stronger than water pass her lips, Sorine was pregnant, and Gunmar was a little overprotective of his fellow Dawnguard. J'zargo had once said a drunk mage was a dangerous mage, and she had seen the aftermath at the College when one of the students had gotten his hands on his first mug of Nord mead. The results hadn't been pretty. Lydia took her job of Housecarl too seriously to risk anything stronger than wine, and since alcohol didn't affect the vampire in the slightest, Serana was the only one that could drink and eat to her heart's content and still remain sober and watchful. With all that in mind, she had a feeling Dustin and her people would employ some underhanded means to get more out of them than she was ready to reveal. Only a fool believed the first words out of a stranger's mouth.

Once they were outside, only then did Serana speak her mind. "I've seen corpses with more warmth to them than Lady Dustin."

"It's natural for them to be suspicious, Serana. But you're right. They could at least act like they don't plan to stab us in the back." Gunmar grumbled as he cast his gaze on a guard that was a little too close for his comfort. "I'd move it boy, unless you want to see what happens when I get angry. You won't like it when I'm angry." Coming from a man that wrestled trolls into submission, and won, his threat was backed up by his size. The Dustin guard did his best not to run with his tail between his legs.

"Awwww…." Serana playfully cooed, "Too bad. I was a little thirsty."

"We're not attacking anyone, Serana." Giselle said firmly, "We still need to respect these people. We are guests in a foreign land… surrounded by strangers. I'd rather they become friends, not enemies. And eating our neighbors is not a smart move in an effort to foster good relations."

"As you wish, my love," Serana playfully bowed, before her small smirk disappeared when she cocked her head to the side. Her superior senses had picked up on something of note from a group by a nearby forge. "Are you serious?"

"What have you heard?" Aela asked as she and those around the vampire noticed the disapproving frown on Serana's face.

"Men are pigs regardless of the lands they inhabit. They're talking about which one of us they find the most attractive….to put it kindly." Serana wasn't about to tell her friends what those around them had truly said. There was no surer way to ensure blood would be spilt than to tell Aela what one of the guards wanted to do with his tongue if given the chance.

"Ignore them. They're just words. Unless they act on it, we do nothing." Giselle nodded her head to Delphine's stern words since she agreed. There was no point in getting worked up over it so long as it stayed as simple talk and not actions. "Besides, if I got angry every time someone tried to grab my ass back at the inn, I'd have quite a few dead bodies to worry about."

"You served at an inn my Lady?" Delphine barely held the urge in check to draw her blade and cut down the man that had somehow gotten up behind her without her being aware of it. Instead, she turned on her heel and met a pair of deep, pale green eyes set in a stern, yet warm face. He was tall and almost as big as Farkas was wide, but his hair was far more brown than dark brunette. "I apologize for startling you, but I wanted to meet you all for myself. News of your landing has spread quicker than you might have realized."

"And who are you?" Giselle asked in a respectful tone as she put a comforting hand on Delphine's shoulder, before turning her brown eyes on the stern faced man in front of them. If she wasn't already married and madly in love with Serana, she might have found him handsome in a stony, hard kind of way.

"Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Warden and protector of the North, under King Robert of the House Baratheon." Eddard replied in a quiet, humbling, almost somber tone as he swept his gaze over all of them, as if he were taking a measure of them all and liking what he saw in them. "Your people are strong and hardy, Lady Morgonnis."

"Forgive me Lord Stark, but meeting us like this...some would call that a reckless act." And one that had gained Delphine's hard earned respect. She didn't believe for a moment that this Stark was a fool, not with the way he had looked at them and seemed to judge them as equals rather than potential enemies.

"Reckless perhaps, but how else would I see what all the talk is about? A man who rules from afar is not fit for rule."

"You prefer to shed your blood with your men when glorious battle calls?" Aela asked, and earned a nod from Ned, although it was measured somewhat. She didn't notice and cheered in approval. "Glad to see not everyone hides behind their walls."

"There is wisdom in fighting with your men Lord Stark, but there is also wisdom in taking shelter when there is a need for it." J'zargo stated, and did his best to ignore the disapproval on the Companions' faces.

"I know a few people at home that would disagree with you. Most of them are dead." Giselle said with a shrug, while her eyes said something else altogether. She hadn't enjoyed the battles against the Stormcloaks, something her friends knew all too well. As for who she meant, mainly, all of Ulfric's supporters during the rebellion, but Giselle didn't feel the need to share that with Eddard.

Once more, Eddard swept his gaze over Giselle's friends before settling on the dunmer last. His lips pulled up into a small smirk as he nodded his head before speaking once more. "Thank you for proving my point, Lady Morgonnis. It's starting to become clear why you have gained such a strong following."

"Our Dragonborn has a tendency to _greatly _reward those loyal to her." Serana quipped, much to Giselle's annoyance as she rammed her elbow into the vampire's side. The woman merely chuckled before addressing Eddard again. "In all seriousness, let's just say that _Lady Morgonnis _has earned our loyalty _many _times over since we've all met her during the last two and a half years." Giselle was certain there was a double entendre in there somewhere, but for the life of her, the dunmer couldn't find it. Besides, the honest praise dulled the hidden joke, and she shot the vampire a brief smirk before turning back to the Lord of the North.

"I feel I must apologize for my friend here. She likes to talk more than is sometimes wise." Giselle countered, a round of quiet chuckles following her statement as she led the way further from the main hall.

Serana shrugged, "You've never complained about my tongue before."

Eddard raised an eyebrow, mildly shocked at the sexual banter between the two women, but suppressed his smile, "And _I_ feel I must apologize for Lady Dustin's behavior. It's an old wound that she has allowed to fester that has led to her current state."

The moment of levity had been brought to an end with that, but it was just as well since Giselle, and her friends, would want to know what they had gotten themselves into. "The Lady Dustin was kind enough to allow us into her court at least." She carefully said, and wasn't surprised when Eddard only nodded his head. "I heard from one of my messengers that your family might have been the cause of the tension."

"We've come out of two wars in the last decade and a half. Lady Dustin lost her husband during the rebellion, and her husband's bones were never brought home. She blames me for that disgrace, and rightly so, but as I told her, if there had been a way to bring her William home, I would have done it." The silence that followed Eddard's grave words were interrupted only by the occasional bark from the kennels and the neigh of the horses in their stables.

When someone did speak, to Giselle's surprise, it was Farkas that took the initiative. "Men of honor are hard to come by. Glad to see it's not limited to our country of Skyrim. Sounds to me like someone needs to get her head out of the horker's ass."

"Farkas!" Giselle reprimanded, but Eddard Stark held up his hand.

"I take no offense from honest words my Lady, and I also appreciate a man who is willing to speak his mind."

"I thank you, but there's a difference between being honest and being downright rude." Giselle said as she shot a stern glare at the man who only shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. _Why I agreed to let him become a Blade and a member of my Dragonguard, I'll never know._

"Agreed. But he certainly got my attention," Stark said with a smirk as he stared up at the giant of a man. _He could give Hodor competition for sheer size._ The greatsword on Farkas's back made it clear he was no gentle giant like Hodor. "I assume Lady Dustin has extended guest right to you?"

"Guest right?" The term was unfamiliar to Giselle, but if it meant what it sounded like, then she assumed that so long as they didn't cause trouble of any kind, they would be protected while a guest at her table.

"She has invited you to dine at her table, under her roof?"

"Not in so many words, but aye she did."

"Good. Then you should consider yourselves under her protection, and mine as well. It is against the laws of gods and men to attack a guest while they are under your roof." The stern look in Stark's eyes silently implied that the same moral code was expected of the guest.

"Honor is important to you here." Lydia said at last, but whether she meant the land in general or the country they were in, no one could say for certain.

"A man without honor is no man at all." Eddard firmly stated.

"Honor is important to us as well. Without it, we are no better than common criminals." Aela said in turn, earning a number of nods from her fellow Companions.

"J'zargo can see this becoming a nice place to live for the foreseeable future with people like you around Lord Stark." The Khajiit nodded his head and waved a clawed hand before putting it back under his arm again. "It's a little colder than J'zargo would like though."

Giselle could hardly contain her stunned amusment when Eddard Stark turned to the Khajiit and addressed him without so much as a surprised blink. "A common complaint by those used to warmer climes. It's said that the North breeds hard men with ice in their veins in place of blood."

"Can't imagine why. Still, it's better than Winterhold by far." Serana emphasized her words with a shudder. "Makes this place seem pretty warm by comparison."

"You haven't seen the far North, my lady. It's much colder than here. Perhaps colder than your city of Winterhold."

"I'd rather not find out anytime soon." Sorine chuckled dryly, but grinned when Eddard let his gaze fall on the heavy crossbow strapped to her back. "Like what you see Lord Stark? You'd be surprised what I can do with a few bits of metal and some wood. A friend found the designs in some old ruins, I made it better with some tinkering." The brief but grateful look Sorine gave Giselle made it clear who had found the designs she had mentioned.

"A learned woman and a fighter? You are truly full of surprises." Eddard remarked with admiration, and was about to say more until someone ran up to him and gave a sigh of relief.

"I wish you wouldn't disappear like that m'lord. Especially in Lady Dus-" Jory's thoughts came to a screeching halt when he saw the company his Lord was with. To say they were the oddest collection of people he had ever seen would have been a gross understatement.

"If you're going to stare boy," Aela grumbled from deep in her throat, "at least have the courtesy of doing so with your mouth shut."

The young man didn't seem to hear her as he continued to stare, especially at Serana's piercing eyes. Eddard lightly, but firmly, pushed the young man to shake him out of his stupor. Jory blinked and muttered a quick apology for his rudeness. To his surprise, the dusky gray skinned woman merely smirked and shrugged. "She gets that a lot from young men, and more than a few women." If it were possible, Jory's cheeks turned even brighter when that loaded comment sunk in.

"Now you're just torturing the poor lad." Eddard chuckled at last as an honest to gods smile appeared on his face.

Jory was quick to recover as he turned his scarred face to Eddard, a mild look of disapproval appearing on his lips. "I see you found them, m'lord. You should have let me accompany you."

"I was in no danger Jory. If anything, I suspect we'll be seeing a great deal of Lady Morgonnis and her countrymen in the future."

"In any case, m'lord, Lady Dustin has sent me to bring you all in for dinner." Jory replied to his lord before whispering into the man's ear. Whatever Jory had told him, Ned only nodded but, she noted a slight grimace appear on his face before it disappeared.

"Very well, we will be there shortly." Jory nodded his head quickly and walked back towards the main hall. He had a feeling tonight's dinner would be most interesting. Eddard turned back to the company before him, "Shall we?"

"Them?" Giselle managed to make that one word reek of equal parts sarcasm, suspicion, and a tinge of disapproval. "If you wanted to learn about us, all you had to do was ask."

"I spied on you before I made contact with you Giselle. It's not an unwise tactic when used to learn more about a potential ally, or a future enemy." Delphine reminded her before the situation became more tense than it was already. "Can you blame Lord Stark for being cautious?"

"No, I honestly can't." She relented with a heavy sigh, remembering more than a few occasions when she had had to act the part of spy and worse when she had gone up against Elenwen during the early days of her actually caring about what happened to Skyrim. It was with that thought in mind that she leveled her brown eyes on Eddard with new found respect for his choice of observing from a distance before coming to them openly. "You're wiser than I gave you credit for."

"I'm glad to hear it." _It seems misunderstandings and prejudice aren't limited to the First Men._ That observation he kept to himself. Before Giselle entered the hall however, Ned stopped her with a hand on her right shoulder. "I feel I should warn you now, before you find out another way. Strong women are rare in Westeros, Lady Morgonnis. Men here will not respect you so easily as they might in your homeland."

"I got that impression already, but thank you for confirming it." Giselle replied before gently pushing her way into the main hall. She didn't have to see the look on his face to know that he respected her already.

**Later that night…**

Aela, Sorine, and Gunmar chose to eat their meals out on the training field, which left Giselle, Serana, Lydia, Delphine, Farkas, and J'zargo in the company of Barbrey's men and the Lady herself. Despite her cool greeting earlier, and the none too subtle glances some of her soldiers were giving them, Giselle at least found the affair quite enlightening and in its own way, entertaining. It became quickly apparent that just as she had tried to present a strong, lasting impression to the locals, Lady Dustin was trying to do the same by loading her side of the table with some of her house's strongest. They were found sorely lacking compared to Farkas, who towered over all of them in both height and build.

But she didn't let it bother her since it was Lady Dustin herself she was the most interested with. Despite her attempt to intimidate her friends, which fell on deaf ears in any event as they ate and chatted amicably with anyone that approached, Giselle could see Barbrey was just as intrigued by them even as she tried to appear aloof and distant to the strangers at her table.

Then there was Eddard Stark and his man, Jory Cassel. Delphine had struck up a conversation with the northmen that had swung towards dragons. "You don't fight a dragon on a whim. You go in prepared, or you come out the other end of such an engagement in smoking and bloody pieces. The dragons of Skyrim are as intelligent as any man here, and just as cunning, but they are proud, arrogant beasts. Anger them, get them to land, and you take away their greatest strength. Their ability to fly."

"You sound like you've hunted quite a few down Lady Delphine." Jory commented, having taken a near instant liking to the Blade despite the fact she was dressed for war. The blade on her hip was just as sharp as the expression on her face, but Giselle had to give the man credit, he wasn't easily intimidated.

"That's because I have. As a Blade, we once protected the Emperors of Tamriel as I said once before, but before that, we protected the greatest dragonslayer of the land, the one we call the Dragonborn."

"I take it there's more to the title than their ability to slay more than the rest." Eddard's observation was dead on, much to Delphine's admiration. Even Giselle was taken aback by how smart the man was turning out to be.

"You could say that." Delphine said at last, a subtle look having passed between her and her Dovahkiin before the Blade turned back to the two men. "But I think that'll be a story for another day. Suffice it to say, not everyone was happy for the return of the Dragonborn since there were some that revered the dragons as god like beings. They repeatedly tried to stop our progress in subduing the dragons that pillaged and burned all in their path."

"You make them sound quite formidable." Most of Giselle's companions nodded their heads to Barbrey's words. She had no idea just how formidable. "The few dragons we've ever encountered have been dead for centuries. The Targaryens were said to have been able to command the beasts, and united the Seven Kingdoms into one after conquering the known world." The look that passed between Giselle and her companions didn't go unnoticed by Lady Dustin. "You seem surprised by this." It was not a question.

"We are." Giselle admitted with some hesitance, her food forgotten. "I understand our two lands are vastly different from each other, but I guess I hadn't expected to hear some similarity between them. Only a select few can command as proud and powerful a creature as a dragon. As Delphine was saying earlier, most believed themselves above every race except their own, and as such, would never allow another to ride them like some horse." Giselle chose not to mention the fact she had ridden a couple of dragons in her war against Alduin and his allies. She wasn't sure she wanted to learn what the people here would think of that news, especially with the disdain she had heard anytime they brought up the Targaryens. Wars had been started over less.

"The Targaryens were said to have had dragon blood in their veins. But since the last of them died out with their dragons, no one can for certain if that's true." Eddard stated before Barbrey could speak anew. He ignored the glare she threw his way, and instead focused on the far subtler look that passed between Lady Morgonnis and her people. He had a feeling that when they returned to their camp, the main topic up for debate would be dragons and the Targaryen dynasty. He made a note to gather as many books on the Seven Kingdoms as he could, to present to this curious woman the next time they met.

Barbrey meanwhile locked her old resentments away and looked to her guests with renewed interest, her own mind furiously at work in an effort to understand their fascination with dragons, among what she had learned about them herself. "Can we perhaps turn our attention to the future?" Lady Dustin asked, and she was quite satisfied to note that the strangers seemed to have forgotten all about Eddard Stark, for the moment anyway. An advantage she planned to hold onto as long as she could before Stark got his claws in them further. "You will want protection no doubt, materials, food, men, and knowledge of this land. I can provide all this and more."

Her diplomatic nature went only so far, and Giselle's nerves were already frayed from the treatment they had received by Lady Dustin and her people. "What's your price?" Giselle's bluntness took the woman back a moment, but she recovered quickly as she met the dark skinned woman's gaze.

"An equal trade." Barbrey replied, just as bluntly. "You'll have to no doubt swear loyalty to the king and promise to uphold his laws, but that is the price we all pay for living under King Robert of the House Baratheon, the first of his name. Beyond that, my price will be far smaller. I simply wish the respect women in our position deserve, and the right to get to know my new neighbors."

_What she means is that she wants to know if we're a danger to her rule. She's right to worry._ She wasn't the only one to note the veiled threat as she saw the disapproving frown on Eddard's face. However, her suspicion was understandable, a potential hostile force had landed near her homestead and could prove to be just the scouting force of the army to come. With that thought in mind, Giselle took a breath and regained some measure of her calm. "I know our word isn't worth much right now Lady Dustin, but I can assure you that we are not enemies. The only way we'd consider such actions is if we were provoked. I might not be willing to share our exact reasons for being here at the present time, but we are explorers, seeking to find our own way. If we must pay such a small price to ensure our continued survival in this land, then we'll pay it, all I ask is the same respect."

Eddard was pleasantly surprised by Giselle's calm response to the veiled threat that had left Lady Dustin's mouth. He was even more surprised to see that Barbrey looked somewhat ashamed for her words, and looked a little less coldly to the strangers at her table. "Perhaps we can learn to coexist if everyone from your homeland are as wise as you are Lady Morgonnis." The woman said at last, earning a slight nod of understanding from Giselle and her people. It was more than she had a right to, she realized, and was far less aloof and distant throughout the rest of the dinner.

It was only after the party started to wind down that Eddard walked up to Giselle and her friends once more, a silent nod of approval at how she had handled the situation passing between them. "For a moment, I was concerned on how this might turn out."

"For us or for Lady Dustin, Lord Stark?" Lydia asked, having a feeling she knew the answer to Eddard's unspoken question.

"Both." Was his simple reply. Before she could ask why, the northman continued. "There is an unspoken trust that extends beyond the norm of soldiers protecting their liege lord or lady that I sense anytime I look at you all. You have truly bonded with your people, and for that alone, you have earned my respect Lady Morgonnis."

"I don't ask them to do anything I wouldn't do myself. I lead by example, nothing more."

"I wish more would follow your way." With that, Eddard started away, but stopped and turned to face her again. "If you ever need assistance, you will have mine. Winterfell will be open to you as well."

If she was surprised by his offer of support, Giselle didn't show it as she held out a hand to the man, who firmly grasped it in his own. "I thank you for your assistance and kind words, Lord Stark." Perhaps their time in Westeros wouldn't be as difficult as she had feared.

Despite the fact it had taken almost every trick she had to gain ground on Lady Dustin, she felt quite satisfied with the progress she had made. While they hadn't learned anything about the threat foretold in the Elder Scroll, they had learned a great deal about the land they found themselves a part of. The small, satisfied smile on the dunmer's face was well earned in the minds of her companions and close friends. "Lord Stark was right about one thing, my Thane." Lydia said, a twinkle having appeared in her eyes as Giselle turned in Shadowsmere's saddle.

"About Lady Dustin's chances of getting out of her own hall in one piece if she _had _crossed us?"

"Indeed. Although I was more worried about us. Not everyone can Shout the ceiling down." The Housecarl countered, earning a round of chuckles from the rest of the Dragonguard.

"Maybe not, but I'm surprised Farkas didn't try to eat her when she let that veiled threat slip past her lips." Serana stated, a sly smirk appearing on her face as she looked to the giant among them.

Farkas laughed and shook his head at that. "Too bony and hard for my liking. I would have chipped a tooth, trying to tear into that one. Werewolves might not be picky eaters, but even I have standards."

"J'zargo does not see why you people are so obsessed with her. We have succeeded and gained allies when we need them most. We need only survive long enough to make our homes, then we can bargain from a stronger position from there if need be." J'zargo's words were emphasized when they crossed the second of the two rivers that stood between them and Lady Dustin's home, and they came within sight of the mountains again. It wasn't long after that, that the group of battle tested warriors' found their gaze riveted to the beautiful sight of their countrymen transforming the surrounding land to suit their needs, slowly but surely. "This is what matters to J'zargo. Our people, our hopes, and all that they hold dear."

"That we can agree on J'Zargo." Giselle replied with a somber nod of her head. "We avoided a war today, and found two strong allies to support us at the same time. I can only hope our luck holds from here, not just for our sake, but for every soul in this world." With that, Giselle led the way to the mountains, where she had left orders with captain gro-Malog to lead enough of their people to start construction of their new castle. He might not have been suited for the task of working stone, but commanding men was another matter, and from the progress that had been made already, she had chosen well.

"What do you plan to call this little pet project of yours Giselle?" Serana asked, having a feeling she knew the answer already as she hopped down from her horse once they stopped at the edge of the new tent city. From the wide stairwell that had already been carved out of the mountain ridge in front of them, she had a feeling their homes would quickly follow. As for the castle itself that Giselle and several of their stonemasons had drawn up once they had seen the mountains on their northern border, that would come last knowing the dunmer as well as she did. She'd see to the wellbeing of the people first, then worry about her own fortress.

"_Monahven_. It means Throat of the World. I chose the name as a reminder to keep myself grounded, and because if not for the Greybeards and Paarthurnax's guidance, well, I'm sure I don't have to explain." The somber mood was ruined when Giselle heard a muttered curse and turned in her saddle, just in time to see Aela reach into her saddle bags.

"Pay up Aela." The Huntress grumbled but handed a small money pouch over to the vampire.

"Why am I not surprised?" Giselle asked, her annoyed question earning a number of chuckles from her friends yet again.

_**Vergil1989**__; I do apologize for the harsh opening notes, but I wasn't happy, as you can no doubt guess, but neither did I feel the need to erase it with recent events. That aside, I hope that this revised, much better thought out chapter works for everyone involved. The Game will change soon enough, and I'm just as excited as you hopefully are to see where things go from here. Adios!_


	5. Business and Pleasure

_Author's Notes; Again I must apologize for the rather harsh rant I left on my last opening notes, but I stand by what I said. As for the recent reviews I've gotten, I greatly appreciate the ones I've been receiving lately, even if you honestly can't find anything to complain about lol. That aside, I hope this chapter is as good as the rest and I'll see you again!_

_Warning; A small mention of torture and another brief scene of nudity. Probably should do more of these warnings now that I think about it lol._

**Westeros**

**Winterfell**

While most of the other Lords of the North had welcomed the strangers, there had been a few Giselle and her company had met over the following three months that hadn't been so welcoming. Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, with his flayed man banner hanging over every tower, had been like Barbrey Dustin, but unlike her, he hadn't warmed up to them in the slightest. He was at least polite about his distaste of her, but Giselle had made a note of not running to him for aid. Besides, there was something about him that had made her skin crawl, and it had nothing to do with the fact his family was once rumored to have worn the skin of the men they flayed in their torture chambers. But she wasn't all that concerned since she knew people that would have made even the Boltons nervous.

Before that, there had been the Glovers, the Karstarks, the Umbers, the Manderlies, and the Freys, whose Twin Towers separated the North from the South by holding the only bridge that was within easy reach for most merchants heading in either direction. There had been other Houses she and her friends had visited, but it was the Freys, particularly Walder Frey, that stood out the most in the dunmer's mind. Anytime she thought of the 'Late Lord Frey', so called by most of the Northmen for his late arrival on the field against the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, she couldn't help but remember Mercer Frey, someone she had once called a friend before he had shown his true colors. It had been his plan to discredit and frame another of the Thieves Guild's oldest members, so that when he eventually made his move to steal the Skeleton Key, no one would have come looking for him until it was far too late. She had been his downfall. He hadn't anticipated her, or her unnaturally long streak of luck when the Guild had been at its weakest.

That aside, Walder Frey was no Mercer. At least with Mercer, she hadn't felt like he was stripping the clothes off of her with his eyes alone. Walder on the other hand? He was an old man well past his prime, and still had the appetites of a skeever in heat. The very thought had made her stomach twist into knots, and he hadn't even had the decency to hide his depravity as he paraded his army of bastards and true born sons alike into his hall when they had come calling. To make matters worse, he had a young girl on his arm throughout most of their meeting, and she had looked as embarrassed as Giselle had felt disgusted about it all. Giselle couldn't help but compare him to the fabled necromancer, the Wolf Queen of Solitude, Potema, whose own dark appetites was only matched by her far reaching ambitions. So when it was over, and they were free to return to their homes in the Rills, she hadn't wasted any time in jumping into the cold rivers that bordered her territory in an effort to scrub her skin raw, in an effort to rid herself of Walder's unsavory gaze on her dark flesh.

If not for Serana's calming presence during that whole affair, Giselle doubted she'd have resisted the urge to raze the Twins to their foundations, with Walder Frey and his family still inside. She was also quite thankful for Delphine's presence, who had long ago advised her not to make any promises or ask anything of the Freys, advice she had heeded to the letter. Only a fool would beg favor with a man old enough to be their grandfather, who had such sickening habits as marrying women not even half his age, just because he thought he could get away with it. She already knew whose House she'd attack first if war came to the north.

Then there were the honorable Starks, a House as old as it was legendary to the other northlords. Even Roose Bolton had spoken favorably of the man who ruled the heart of the north, Winterfell. If the Freys were the dark blemish on the edge of the cold country, then the Starks were its bright center.

It was with this in mind that she looked to Eddard Stark now, both of them overlooking the yard from the railed walkway that ran the length of the inner wall. "Your land is indeed wide as it is beautiful Eddard Stark. In the past three months, I've ridden to every corner, seeing what there was to see, and meeting with your fellow Lords and Ladies." She said, a small smile on her face as she remembered her ride through the countryside. The north was like Skyrim, cold, covered in snow, but wide, expansive, and beautiful in its own way. Even the infamous Wall, where the Night's Watch resided, had had its charm.

"I've heard quite a few tales Giselle." Giselle had insisted he call her by her given name rather than Lady Morgonnis as most everyone else had been doing. "Your Companion friend was mentioned fairly often. Aela I believe her name was."

"Aye." She chuckled, unable to help it as she remembered how the Umbers, the eldest preferring the name of Greatjon, had been quite surprised by the woman's temperament. For all of their loud words and bluster, Aela had matched them, and then overcome them with Farkas at her side as they shouted the two leaders down. They had respected the Skyrimmers, Greatjon had named them, after that, saying that 'you Skyrim folk are bloody loud.' "I was a little worried they'd send us back to our camp, wounded pride in hand, but Aela and Farkas were able to win their respect by all but yelling them back into their chairs with tales of their past battles. When they didn't believe my Companion 'brother and sister', they pulled out a giant's toe and a dragon's broken horn between them and tossed their trophies on the table in front of the two Greatjons. That shut them up."

"I imagine it did." Eddard chuckled in turn, having never doubted the people from Skyrim since he had met them all those months ago. They were different from anyone he had ever met, but in his mind, that was a good thing. They were a proud and mighty people despite being few in number, and from Barbrey's reluctant reports he had been sent about their progress in the mountains near their camp, they were quite the industrious people as well. Out of the three hundred and twenty men, women, and children that had come ashore, only half of that were able to use a weapon of some kind or another, but Eddard found himself more concerned for any foolish enough to attack the strangers than he was for those from Skyrim. If the few he had met were any indication of the rest, then he doubted even the mighty Lannisters of Casterly Rock would engage them without holding every advantage first. Say what you wanted about the pride of a lion, even they weren't foolish enough to go to war on a whim.

Turning his thoughts back to his guest though, Eddard felt his lips pull up into a smile as he nodded to the dark elf's girl, who was currently sitting on a bench with his wife and baby Rickon. Lucia was wide eyed in wonder as she held the sleeping child in her arms, with Catelyn Stark near at hand if the babe decided to wake. "It seems you aren't the only one with a gift for persuasion Giselle. Your girl has my Cat wrapped around her pinky already."

The sight made the dunmer's heart swell with pride and love as she caught the Nord girl's gaze for a moment before Lucia turned back to the bundle in her arms. It made her realize all over again how much Lucia meant to her, and despite her fear the girl wouldn't do well outside of Tamriel's embrace, Lucia had surprised her many times over. If anything, Westeros suited her far better than their homeland ever had. "It would seem so, Eddard. I was afraid that when we started this journey, Lucia would be miserable and become withdrawn, but she seems to have taken to this land better than I could have dreamed."

"I'm glad to hear it. I know it couldn't have been easy at first, but you've done well for yourselves here." Eddard replied, earning him an amused chuckle from his guest.

"Someone's been keeping an eye on us." Giselle teased, finding his distant observation of their progress welcome these days. Before, she hadn't been so sure about the man and those under his banner, but now she trusted Eddard Stark without question. He admitted his faults, the few that he had, but it was the man himself that intrigued her. He ruled fairly and he truly cared for his people, he commanded great respect without having to say a word, and almost everyone loved him. Good men like him were rare, a sad fact but one that was unfortunately true in both of their homelands. It was his caring for their well being that made Giselle glad to have him on her list of allies. "That aside, the mountains near what you call the Rills have rendered quite a fair bit of ore to our miners and stonemasons."

"Which you've been generous in sharing with the north." Ned was quick to reply, before he continued his line of thought. "But they are your lands as far as I'm concerned. You have every right to it. I was talking about how quickly you've reshaped the land. It looks like you've lived there for a whole year rather than a few moons. Your stone and wood houses seem to spring up like saplings, and I've heard rumors that the first towers of your keep have been carved out of the mountain already."

"That last part is a bit exaggerated." Giselle was quick to point out before sighing in mild frustration. "While it's true House Dovahkiin's keep has begun to take shape, it's only because those under my charge want me out of my little tent, and in a castle worthy of my name. Despite repeated attempts to dissuade them, saying that there are other things they can do with their time like diverting the nearer of the rivers so it flows closer to our small hold, they continue to carve the stone and shape it to their heart's content. I know I should be grateful for their devotion, but I could do less with their need to honor me and more with their willingness to cede to sense." While everything else, from raising their houses as Eddard had said already, to completing the first round of planting their fields, and establishing trade with their neighbors, it still didn't stop her from worrying about their future in Westeros.

"You worry about your people, just as I worry about mine Giselle. I could safely argue you worry _too _much." Giselle could only chuckle and nod her head, since more than a few of her friends back home had said the same thing. Eddard's grave visage softened at that kind gesture before he continued. "You are a good woman, a strong ruler, and a steadfast friend to those that have earned your trust. Your strength is matched only by your compassion. Regardless of what you were in the past, it is who you are now that matters. Stay true to that woman Giselle, and you will be able to overcome anything in your path." The dark elf only nodded her head to the man's wise words, once more reminded of how grateful she was to number him among her friends in Westeros. She wasn't able to dwell on it for long as they descended the stairs of the walkway and started across the training yard. "Have you ridden out to King's Landing yet?"

And just like that, the good mood vanished as Giselle stopped and stared at the man next to her. She chose her words carefully, not wishing to offend him, but neither would she lie. Her three months in Westeros hadn't made her eager to ride into the viper pit that was King's Landing. "No. I understand King Robert's your friend, but I'm not sure if I want to be that far from our shores just yet."

"But you've no doubt heard of what the Lannisters did to the Targaryens and the Castemeres by now." Her hesitance wasn't born out of fear, that much Ned was certain of as the woman next to him only nodded her head to his question. She was only being cautious, and he couldn't blame her, especially if she had heard tale of Tywin Lannister hunting down the last of the Targaryens and presenting the bodies of their babies, wrapped in crimson cloaks to hide the blood. It was with those thoughts in mind that Eddard spoke anew, his own words measured and reserved since he didn't wish to push her too strongly in any direction. "That whole affair was not something I wanted, but do you understand the need for why it had to be?" He finally asked, and wasn't surprised by the hint of rage in her brown eyes.

"I understand someone was foolish enough to believe babies still at their mother's breast were somehow a threat, and they needed to die along with their mother. I understand that same someone now sits on the Iron Throne. I also understand I have to bend the knee to him if I wish to continue to live here, several hundred miles away from the capital. Tell me where that makes sense to you." Giselle asked, just able to stop herself from growling out the words like a beast chewing at its muzzle.

This was exactly why he liked Giselle Morgonnis. She defied what was expected of her not because she was arrogant or defiant, but only because she questioned everything they believed to be written in stone. She tried to understand them, not just for curiosity's sake but because she honestly wanted her people to at least adapt to Westeros, but her tolerance and patience for their ways only stretched so far. She would bend, but not break. A weaker person might have sacrificed their beliefs by that point and simply ridden out to King's Landing and sworn their oaths on the spot, but not her. She'd challenge the way of things to her dying breath, and it was her death he wanted to avoid even if he agreed with her wisdom. "Why do you think I haven't been back to the capital since?" After a long silence had fallen between them, broken only by the boys training in the yard and the occasional bark from the kennels, Eddard looked towards Lucia, Rickon, and his wife before turning to the woman at his side again. "But if I were in your position, I'd at least present myself to the king. Tell him you know me well, and he might forgo the oaths of fealty everyone else gladly gives."

"I doubt it. My luck isn't _that _good." With a much heavier sigh of frustration and a curse in what he assumed was her native tongue, Eddard wasn't surprised when she started towards Lucia and his family. "I think Lady Catelyn needs her baby back Lucia." She said in an effort to hide what was truly on her mind.

"Awww. Alright. Thank you for letting me hold him Cat." Lucia exclaimed, earning her an amused chuckle from the matriarch of the Stark household as she gingerly handed the heavily wrapped boy back to his mother.

"You're more than welcome Lucia." Giselle raised an eyebrow at the nickname, and when Catelyn noticed, she merely shrugged. "She is merely a girl, and she meant no offense Morgonnis. I see no harm in it."

"And here I was prepared to give her a lesson in good manners." Giselle teased, rolling her eyes when Lucia huffed in annoyance before standing from the bench and walking to her side. "Thank you for keeping her company while I bored your husband with grm talk. I fear my next stop will be King's Landing after I go back home for a few days." Lucia knew what that meant, but she held her next comment back since she also knew Giselle was only worried about her safety.

Catelyn's eyes narrowed, "Why are you going to that den of vipers?"

"Glad to see someone else shares my opinion." Giselle quipped, before answering the woman's heated question. "I've been putting off the trip as it is, but I get the feeling if I delay any longer, I won't like what might happen later."

"The lesser of two evils, I suppose." Catelyn said with a sigh before looking up at the strange woman before her. "I'll pray to the new and the old gods for your safe return. The gods know there are enough orphans as it is." She stated, her gaze having fallen on Lucia for a moment before it shifted back to Giselle's face.

"Indeed Lady Stark. Lord Stark, I'll send word when I return, one way or the other. Come on Lucia." Giselle turned and sighed, a small smile on her face when she saw that the girl had run off to say goodbye to the rest of the Stark children, as well as the bastard Jon and their hostage, Theon Greyjoy. She bore no ill will for Jon Snow, Eddard's only baseborn child, and really, had taken a liking to the young boy. It was Theon however, that made Giselle's maternal instinct tingle, anytime Lucia was anywhere near him. For the moment she simply observed, ready to knock some sense into the Ironborn youth if he so much as laid a finger on her adopted daughter.

She needn't have worried as Theon made that very mistake, having made some cruel jest at Lucia's expense the moment he got close. All Giselle heard was something about the girl hiding something under her dress, which she took to mean he was questioning the fact she was a girl at all. With the ebony dagger on her hip and from the wiry muscles of her arms and legs, she could see why he'd think so, but that didn't make it right for him to make such a comment. But the thought was followed by a shriek as Lucia spun around, quick as a snake, and Theon found himself pinned to the ground, his right arm twisted painfully behind his back. "Sorry, what did you say about me again? I couldn't hear you."

"Ease off Lucia. I'd rather not have to have one of our healers out here, setting broken bones." Giselle stated as she knelt by the pair, shooting a glare at the other children who were giggling at Theon's current predicament. They fell silent almost immediately. "While I'm not against you defending your honor, just don't take it too far and become cruel in the process."

"Yes mama." Lucia replied before letting Theon go and standing to her feet. Without looking at Theon again as the boy backed up several feet on his hands and knees , Lucia dusted her dress off and looked up into Giselle's smiling face.

It was about that time that Robb walked up to her, a small, shy smile on his face. "How did you do that so quickly? I didn't even see you move until it was too late."

"I don't practice my sewing like your sister." Lucia quipped, earning an annoyed scoff from the red head before she stomped off.

Robb watched as she walked off. It wasn't long before Arya's voice came from behind him, "I like her!"

Giselle could only shake her head at the youngest daughter to the Starks. "Why do I get the feeling you and Arya will become good friends?"

"Because we're so much alike." Lucia shot back, earning her an amused eye roll from the dunmer as they went to their horses. It was only once they were out of Winterfell that Lucia's wide smile disappeared, and they were on their way back to their home. "Are you really going to King's Landing? Isn't that where Lord Stark's father and brother were…."

"Were killed by the Mad King? Yeah, but that was a different time little wing." Giselle replied solemnly, hoping to set the girl at ease as they put the castle at their back and left it far behind. "I don't like the idea of heading there anymore than you do Lucia, but I won't be going alone. Besides, Ned's friend, Robert, sits on the throne now. I doubt we have anything to worry about from him."

"But not his wife, the Queen." Lucia was quick to point out, having read the thought hidden behind the dunmer's brown eyes. "She's a Lannister. Her father's a Lannister." She didn't have to finish her own line of thought for Giselle to know what she was getting at.

Slowing their pace down so their horses were at an easy canter, Giselle turned and nodded her head to Lucia's worried comment before she spoke anew. "They might be Lannisters, but we aren't at war, and we have no ties to the Throne, Lucia. That's a position I could do without anyway. While I share your concern for what they might be capable of if they feel threatened, they'd be fools to attack us with the Baratheons in charge. Trust me, you don't strike down the leader of another House without some time to prepare first." _Or an Emperor._ That she left unsaid.

"It'd still make me feel better if you wore your dragonscale armor while in the capital." Lucia said at last, her eyes downcast until Giselle laughed. The frown on the girl's face disappeared when she realized what she had said, and that her mother was laughing because she had no doubt sounded like Delphine just then.

"Oh Lucia. You've been hanging around Delphine too much. I'll meet you halfway and go with my ebony suit, how's that?" She managed to ask, the occasional chuckle escaping her lips as they continued to ride south down the kingsroad.

"Wear your ebony mail with the poison enchantment on it, then I won't worry. No one would dare get close once they get a taste of the cloud the toxic cloud that seeps off of that chest plate." Lucia stated with a nod of her head, her worry forgotten as Giselle laughed again.

"Yep, you've definitely been hanging around Delphine too much." And Giselle found she didn't mind that at all. Westeros was not Skyrim after all.

Once they returned to camp a week and a half later, Giselle wasted no time in seeing Lucia returned to Mjoll's side before checking on the rest of their friends and allies. She found Lydia and Vilkas at their home which had been completed shortly before her trip to Winterfell. She almost didn't recognize her Housecarl though, since she had foregone her steel armor for a simple homespun dress and a matching skirt that allowed her swelling belly room to breathe. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I'm glad to see you've finally gotten started on that family." Giselle said after they had embraced in front of their door before she was invited inside.

"We have and it is Harbinger." Vilkas replied with pride and joy. "We found out shortly before you left to talk to the other northerners. How did it go?" He asked as he and Lydia sat down at a nearby table while Giselle stood at the door.

"It went well. I'd stay and chat but I have a few places I need to go before the day's over. I've put off going to King's Landing for far too long as it is." She didn't have to explain as her two oldest friends only nodded their heads, but before she turned to the iron bound door, Giselle stopped and offered them a warm smile. "I'm happy for you both. I know you'll make wonderful parents."

"Thank you my Thane. We'll know who to go to if we need a night off." Lydia replied, a twinkle in her brown eyes that disappeared as she stood from her chair and followed the dunmer outside. Vilkas didn't stop her, having a feeling she knew what she was going to ask her as the door shut behind them.

Giselle didn't let her open her mouth. "No. I plan to tell Sorine and Gunmar the same thing for the same reason."

"But my Thane, Giselle, you need the Dragonguard behind you if you're going to the capital. All of us. I can still fig-"

"Lydia. I appreciate your concern, but I will not put you or Sorine at risk. Yes, the capital is by all accounts dangerous, but I don't plan to go in unprepared. Besides, this is a simple social call, in the hopes we might avoid trouble later if nothing else." Putting a hand on Lydia's shoulder, Giselle smiled and continued to speak. "If all goes well, I'll be back well before you and Sorine give birth. There's no way I'll miss the first children born of our people here in Westeros."

"Alright. But I just want you to know, I think this is a bad idea." Lydia said before heading back inside. Giselle was tempted to go back and have the Housecarl follow her anyway since she shared her concern, but she stood by her decision and instead, walked away to the training yard.

It didn't take her long to find Sorine, in the middle of training a group in the proper use and maintenance of the powerful crossbow they had brought out of Skyrim. Despite her slightly swollen belly under her Dawnguard steel and leather armor, she still moved with the same grace and agility that Giselle had noted upon their first meeting, outside an old dwemer ruin. "First team, line up, fire! Second team, line up, and fire! First team reloads while third team lines up, and fires!" Giselle watched from a distance, her hands on a fence that ran the perimeter of the yard as three groups of five men and women rapidly fired, fell back, reloaded, and repeated the procedure. Once Sorine was satisfied with their results for the day, and had shot her a subtle nod to show she had seen the dunmer approach, the Dawnguard inventor dismissed the group. "Return at dawn tomorrow. We still have a lot of work to do!"

"Looks like you've been doing good work to me Sorine." Giselle stated, nodding her head to the line of wooden, straw, and steel reinforced dummies lined up against the far wall. The majority of them had dozens of steel bolts sticking out of what would have been considered 'vital areas' in a live target.

"You should have seen the last group, your opinion wouldn't be so optimistic." Sorine retorted as she motioned to a section of the yard wall where more than a few bolts were embedded. "They didn't hit a damn thing between them, and one of them almost put one in my ass when I looked away for two seconds. If not for some Argonian by the name of Vezaara or something, I would be walking around with a limp right now."

"Veezara." Giselle corrected her before realizing her mistake. "I...ran into him a few times back in Falkreath." _Sly bastard._ The last time she had seen the former Shadowscale, Veezara had been in a puddle of his own blood, struck down by the Penitus Oculatus, or so everyone had believed. Like any skilled assassin of his caliber though, he had survived, and had apparently been hiding right under her nose. Nazir probably knew and had wanted to see how long it took her to notice. She'd be sure to tell him before she left.

Sorine only shrugged, having no idea of her real connection to the Argonian and instead focused her attention on other matters. "I take it the rumors are true then? You're heading to King's Landing?"

"Let me guess, Lucia said something?" Before Sorine could answer, Giselle waved her off since it didn't matter. "I share her concern Sorine, but before you ask, I already shot Lydia down just as I'm going to shoot you down. You're right where I need you."

"Away from any foreseeable danger while I pop Gunmar's little troll from my cave." Sorine joked, but nodded her head solemnly since she was smart enough to realize she was in no shape to travel far from home. "I won't lie Giselle, I don't like this idea anymore than Lydia did, but I know when to back down. Besides, I'm doing good work here, work I hadn't thought I'd ever do, but it's keeping me busy. You allow me free reign to do what I think is best to prepare for any trouble, just like Isran did back home. For that, you have my thanks."

"You're a smart woman Sorine. I'd be a fool to put a limit to your natural talents. I only ask that if you devise some new doomsday weapon, you don't test it on anything live….except _maybe _one of Gunmar's trolls." That got a hearty laugh from the Dawnguard inventor as Giselle left her side at last, a spring in her step that hadn't been there before.

Making her way through a small cluster of tents and small shacks alike, simple structures that would be torn down once materials for proper housings were gathered, Giselle knew she was being followed as she felt eyes on her back. She didn't feel threatened though, even as she turned into a dark corner between two of the recently constructed houses and turned on her heel, only to see the shadowed alleyway. The soft touch of feet on stone was her only warning as she rolled forward, her hidden dagger in her boot appearing in her hand as she came out of her roll and spun on her heel again, her blade just shy of her opponent's neck. If not for the red eyes set in the child's face, Giselle would have been lulled into a false sense of security. "You've kept up your skills, Sister."

"And you've kept your skills as sharp as ever Babette." Giselle noted as she felt the vampire pull her dagger away from her stomach at the same time Giselle sheathed her dagger back in her boot. "I take it you've known about Veezara's miraculous recovery."

The small 'child' nodded her head as Giselle started forward, keeping to the shadows for Babette's comfort given her unique nature. She was not a Volkihar, and so didn't have their immunity to the sun. "Nazir wondered how long you'd take to notice. I said it would take you less than four months given how busy you've been. He owes me four hundred septims, which I plan to collect. Perhaps he'll learn not to bet against a three hundred year old vampire."

Despite her secret joy of having the vampire at her heel, having always had a strange fondness for the 'child of night', she knew Babette hadn't come outside without a good reason. Something was wrong, or she had something important on her mind that couldn't wait. "I never thought I'd see you outside in broad daylight Babette. Why did you risk becoming a pile of ash, if it wasn't important?"

Babette stopped at the end of the shadowed alleyway while Giselle stood in the light beyond the exit. The imagery wasn't lost on the dunmer. They were both assassins, both of them hiding what they really were in the light of day, or the darkest shadows in Babette's case. Either way, it was the same because they didn't dare share what they were to anyone lightly, and for one of them, it was far too late to be anything _other _than what they were. Giselle had gotten out before she had been lost to the Dark Brotherhood's ways, but she was still their leader, still their Listener, and so it fell to her to keep things going. The only way she'd ever be allowed to relinquish the title is if someone else was picked for the role, and the only way that would happen is if she was killed. She had no intention of dying, and from the look on Babette's face, Giselle knew she was as worried for her as everyone else had been thus far, even if she tried to hide it.

"You'll going to need backup if you go to the capital, Listener." Babette started as she stuck her right hand into a sunbeam before jerking it back as smoke started to emanate from her pale fingers. It showed just how different she was from Serana, how much stronger the elder vampire was, but Giselle knew that Babette wasn't to be underestimated. As the 'girl' herself would tell you if asked, looking like a ten year old had many advantages. No one ever considered her a threat until it was far too late. "Might I suggest you take one of our members into your Dragonguard until Sorine and Lydia are able to serve again? Perhaps Veezara, or Nazir? Maybe even one of our new initiates would-"

"Come on Babette, we both know you didn't come out here to talk about who I'm taking to King's Landing. What's the problem?" Giselle finally asked, and the vampire huffed and crossed her arms before motioning her to follow.

"I had hoped to allow you time with your lover before sharing what we've found, but I see you won't be easily dissuaded." With that, Babette disappeared into a cellar hatch after having led the dunmer through a small maze of darkened alleyways, under wooden balconies that hung across the makeshift streets that had been constructed, and even through a few empty houses that had been erected and were simply waiting for their occupants. They would be filled soon enough, of that Giselle was certain, but that was a distant thought as she followed Babette into the dark cellar. It was here, in the dark and damp dirt tunnel where she could see the stalks of fungi and tree roots that had snaked down into the walls, that her brown eyes fell on the door.

It was a red and black door, with a red skull carved into the heavy stone barrier. It was the front door to any and all Dark Brotherhood sanctuaries, the first barrier that separated them from the rest of the world, and one that would not open without the proper passphrase. The only things that could force the door open were battering rams and magical assaults, and neither were exactly subtle. The time it took to break it down gave the assassins behind it all the time they needed to escape, or prepare to fight their way to freedom. This one was no different as Giselle heard a chilling, death like whisper in her ears when Babette approached. "_What is the illusion of life?_"

"Innocence, my brother." Babette answered, earning her a strange look from Giselle. "Nazir liked the question on the Dawnstar door. He wanted to use it here." The vampire said with a shrug as the door opened of its own accord. "Talk to him if you want us to change it."

"I might just do that." While she was the Listener, she had left Nazir in charge of their day to day operations. Only when the Night Mother spoke to her directly did Giselle take command, an arrangement that suited everyone, herself included, just fine. It allowed her to move and operate as she liked, and it kept the Brotherhood safe and secure in the knowledge that one of their own was acting the part of leader to the people, her ear to the ground for any rumors of work worth following back to its source. Provided Nazir and the others didn't beat her to it of course.

The dirt tunnel gave way to a stone and mortar warren of darkly lit tunnels and passageways, interspersed with the occasional chamber where the rest of Brotherhood enclave resided, sharpening weapons, setting up defensive measures against possible invaders, or training against target dummies that looked quite human. Their craftsmanship was remarkable, but no blood was spilt when several of the Initiates struck at them with dagger, bow, sword, or hammer. The targets would bend or break as was appropriate for the 'wound' inflicted, but would repair itself as enchantments designed to retain the original shape of the object, kicked in when the blows stopped. It only worked for target dummies since such magic on a door would have frozen it in place, making it a rather useless gesture. The reason for such powerful spells on the targets though was quite practical. It allowed the assassins in training to see where their attacks would do the most damage against a target that never died. Giselle had a cranky old mage to thank for the stroke of genius, before he had had a stroke and died days after they had landed. A strange irony, but one that served her well now. It kept the assassins out of sight, out of mind unless called away on a mission, and it kept her people safe from them seeking out living targets….for the most part.

Today, she was not so fortunate as she saw two people, hanging by their wrists against the far wall. They had been stripped down completely, leaving nothing to the imagination. The multitude of cuts, bruises, and needle small bite marks along their naked flesh were proof of their treatment, and despite her initial pulse of disgust at seeing anyone tortured, she knew there had been a good reason for their foul treatment. The fact they still breathed told her that their nightmare wasn't over.

The one on the left couldn't have been older than fourteen years old, yet there was an intelligence and guile behind his blurry blue eyes that intrigued her, marking him as something other than he appeared given what she had seen of the land. The other one far older, a woman of forty, and from the pile of clothes that the dunmer saw piled on a nearby metallic table that held a number of tools used for torture, she had been a priestess to the Seven, the local religion. "I take it there's a reason why you have them tied up?" Giselle finally asked, turning to Babette who had since sat down in a nearby chair.

Knowing the dunmer's thoughts on torture, the vampire 'child' was quick to defend her actions. "I understand you don't approve, but torture is quite a valuable skillset when applied correctly, and not used as a means to terrorize your neighbors into behaving themselves." Babette stated, referring to the Boltons as the dunmer looked at the vampire's handiwork. The step stool nearby told her the rest of the story. "Before you make a remark about me being a child in size, Nazir had quite a few 'witty' comments until I threatened to leave him hanging from the rafters until your return. He didn't find it quite as funny that I had to use a step stool to continue my interrogation. As to why these two are here, let them tell their little story. I think you'll find it quite intriguing, Listener."

The woman refused to say a word, but she didn't have to. Mathias, the young boy that was tied up next to her, was more than eager to spill his guts. Even when the septon tried to silence him, only to be silenced herself when Babette hissed at her continued defiance, the boy didn't stop speaking. And what a story he had to tell.

Mathias had been recruited at a young age by a Lord Varys, the King's master of whisperers. His latest mission had taken him to their small town, where he had been instructed to monitor and report on their progress. The older woman had simply pretended to be his mother for the duration of the trip. As to how they got there, Giselle figured that they had hitched a ride with one of the trading caravans, and had simply blended in with the rest of their human population. What were a few extra helping hands in the fields or in the construction yards? No one had thought it strange they were a little too inquisitive for their own good, except for the Brotherhood of course. To corroborate Mathias's tale, Giselle found a letter addressed to Lord Varys, simply initialed with a V on the roll of parchment, beside the young boy's personal belongings which had been placed on its own separate table.

She had to give this Varys credit for his ingenuity. She hadn't even met him yet, and already she respected his craft and his skill at recruiting and educating Westeros's downtrodden and unobserved to his cause. He no doubt gave them money for services rendered, perhaps gave them shelter when they required it, and all they had to do was pass along information. But that was where her respect ended. He had made the mistake of sending his spies to her door. Despite the fact it was a wise move on his part, it only inflamed her ire to know that even though she had made it a point not to cause trouble, the southerners still took it upon themselves to spy on her people. "Babette." The growl in her voice wasn't missed by the captives as they flinched, as if she had struck them herself or were about to.

"Yes dear Sister?" The vampire perked up, as if she were about to be given a sweet or a toy she had craved for quite some time. The illusion was shattered by the feral hunger in her red eyes.

Taking one last look at the two hanging from the wall, Giselle shook her head and started away. She didn't need to be there for what came next. "Dispose of the old woman. I think young Mathias could serve us well." She wasn't quite quick enough as the screams started before she was even out the door.

"There used to be a time that you enjoyed the work we did Listener." Nazir stated as she stopped when she saw the Redguard waiting for her in the next room. "But I hear domestic life has that effect on people. If you want my honest opinion, I'm glad you got out while you were still in touch with your more human side. That runt of yours deserves the good life."

"That's surprising, coming from you Nazir. I never took you as the parenting type." Giselle retorted, earning her an amused grin from the man as he fell in step beside her.

"Yeah well, things change. Look at where we are, look at where you led us Sister. Then tell me that the Dark Brotherhood can't change." Nazir replied, his grin having disappeared as he turned to face her, his dark gaze meeting her brown eyes without hesitation or trepidation. "The kid you spared will no doubt thank you. We'll be sure to make his loyalties ours after Babette takes care of the septon. It'll do him good to know what we do to traitors, should he consider the idea."

"The fact he can tell us all about King's Landing has nothing to do with this generosity." Nazir only chuckled as Giselle walked away. In her rush to get back up to the surface, she forgot all about changing the passphrase and its respective question on the door.

As for the boy and why she had kept him alive, that was not the only reason she had decided to spare him Babette's bite, but it certainly helped. The old woman would had been too loyal to her master, too unwilling to bend, and she would have stabbed them in the back at the first opportunity. The boy however, was another story. He was still young, still malleable, and unlike Varys, they wouldn't leave him begging on the streets, kept alive by a few golden coins at a time. The Dark Brotherhood looked after its own.

With Lucia playing with several of the other children, and with a few more hours of daylight left to her, Giselle took the time to head to her quiet little corner of their territory. When she found her tent had been torn down, and replaced by a rather large stone mansion that looked suspiciously like her Lakeview Manor south of Whiterun, she barely resisted the urge to Shout the front doors down and instead simply flung them open. They could have asked if she wanted a giant mansion, but no, they had gone on ahead and used precious resources and time to make her a house she didn't need. Any other time, she would have at least been grateful for their willingness to see her and her family comfortable, but too much had happened that day.

Her tumultuous thoughts came to a halt when she flung the doors open to what she assumed was her new bedchambers, and her brown eyes fell on two things her brain tried to make sense of. The first was the fact there was an honest-to-gods tub full of hot, steaming water, and the second was a naked Serana, soaking away up to her neck with her head leaning over the edge of the tub. "I was wondering if you'd get here before the water cooled Giselle." The small, contented smirk on the vampire's face disappeared when she saw the look on the dunmer's face, but before she could get up, Giselle managed a weak smile as she sat on the side of their bed.

"Don't get up Serana. Whatever's bothering me can wait. I just need to relax before my _raghol_...my rage threatens to bring this place down." Giselle said as she started to pull her boots off before tossing them to a dark corner of the room. She had every intention of getting in that tub, with or without Serana.

"I can take a few guesses, or you can tell me." Serana quipped, drawing out a frustrated huff from Giselle.

It was all she could do not to start pacing back and forth like a wild animal trapped in a small cage as Giselle rubbed at her temples, and started her heated tirade. "It turns out those twice damned Oblivion _duraal mey _in King's Landing don't want to leave us alone. They sent a couple of spies with the caravans, one of them a boy barely into his adult years. I gave the order to kill the older of them and Nazir's seeing to turning the kid, Mathias, over to our side. I have enough problems here in the north with the likes of the Freys and the Boltons no doubt wondering how best to take what's ours for themselves. While Ned has promised to help us without question, our closest neighbor is a woman that holds a grudge better than most skeletal creatures hold onto some semblance of their past lives. We have a king that united this land until he won the Iron Throne, on the backs of murdered Targaryen children I might add, and I'm supposed to bend the knee to him?!" All of the stress, the worry, the pent up frustration poured out of her, and when she didn't have anything left, Giselle looked down at the floor between her feet, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed in defeat.

She didn't know Serana had climbed out of the tub until she felt the vampire's hands on her cheeks, and felt her lips touch the top of her head. "You don't have to do this alone Giselle." She whispered before pulling her against her bare stomach, having not even bothered to grab a robe or a towel before pulling the dunmer into a tender, loving embrace. The smell of jasmine and lavender filled her nose, and it, along with Serana's fingers brushing through her hair, soothed her frayed nerves better than any fine wine or strong drink ever could.

"I know I couldn't have made it this far without you, Lucia, and our friends Serana. I just wish this burden wasn't mine to bear." Before she could dwell on that too much, Giselle closed her eyes as Serana's words poured over her again.

"That's why it's yours though. My father wanted too much, while you want nothing but a quiet, unremarkable life, surrounded by those you cherish more than yourself, despite the fact your life has been anything but ordinary. You ask for nothing and give so much more." Serana replied, barely above a whisper as her hands moved away from Giselle's hair and gently lifted her chin up so their eyes met. "I know it feels like everything's been put on you, but you have good, strong people that are willing to take up the slack from time to time. All of us, Lydia, Delphine, J'zargo, Farkas, Vilkas, even your 'family' in the Dark Brotherhood will help you Giselle. This burden that you are hellbent on shouldering alone became ours when we met you and chose to stand beside you. Let us lighten the load."

Giselle could never recall how it happened, only that her next thought was interrupted when she felt Serana gently pull her to her feet before she felt the vampire's lips melt onto hers. Her next clear thought had her naked, wrapped in Serana's arms, her back against her lover's front as warm water ran down her dark skin in small rivulets. As much as she wanted to turn around and ravish the vampire until tomorrow night, she remained still, unwilling to move from her comfortable spot. "You're too good to me Serana." She sighed in satisfaction, perfectly content to remain in the water until she turned into a prune.

"Careful, you might give me a bigger head than what I have already." They shared a small laugh before Serana's skilled hands went to the dunmer's slender waist and the front of her stomach. After a few minutes passed of her simply rubbing and kneading the hard muscles there, of working out the kinks she could find before moving upward, Serana asked the question that Giselle had hoped to put off until they were at least out of the tub. "When do you plan to leave?"

"If I had a choice and I wasn't worried about possible reprisals? Never. But since the world isn't that good to me or us, once I finalize a few things here, probably before the end of the week." It was the longest she dare delay now that she knew those in the capital weren't content to leave her people alone. She needed to make sure where she and those from Skyrim stood, she needed to make it clear that so long as they did nothing to threaten their petty politics, that she'd remain quiet and out of the picture. But they also needed to understand that the moment they tried to move against her people and those she loved, they'd pay in rivers of blood.

But her mounting rage disappeared when Serana asked her to sit forward before she felt the woman's cold hands against her back. Leaning her head back and to the side, Giselle groaned softly at the impromptu massage Serana had initiated, and groaned a little louder still when she felt her lips at her ear. "Forget about them my love, just relax. The Nine know you could use a break."

"Says the woman that can't go near a temple." Giselle chuckled, her smirk as wide as it could get even when Serana nipped at her ear in feigned annoyance.

It came as no surprise that night saw her, Serana, and Lucia all in the same bed. The small girl hadn't been able to sleep in her own room, her worry having been too great for the days to come. While it reminded Giselle of the danger she was riding into, it also made her glad that she had her and Serana in her life. The dunmer fell asleep with ease that night, but despite being surrounded by her makeshift family, her mind was assaulted by dreams.

Given her interference in matters best left to Daedra and their playthings, Giselle wasn't surprised she found herself in some kind of dark chamber instead of safe in her bed, with Serana on one side and Lucia tucked between them. Besides a simple wooden table and the smell of old blood somewhere in the distance, there was not enough light to distinguish much more as she stood off to the side, her arms crossed in annoyance at being dragged anywhere. "If you're going to torture me into submission or something equally degrading, get it over with."

"Who said anything about torturing you my dear Morgonnis? Watching you scuttle about is so much more fun." She turned her head and felt her draconic soul roar in rage when she realized who had stepped out of the shadows at the other end of the room. She knew better than to be taken in by his seemingly mundane appearance, the 'man' before him was far more powerful than any enemy she had faced before. He looked like a man into his early thirties, tall, muscular, and quite handsome, but his eyes told another story. Like Serana's, they glowed with a demonic light, but unlike the vampire's, his were bright red and full of malice and dark glee. "Surprising as it might be to you my dear Dovahkiin, you aren't the center of my universe, even if you are fucking one of my beloved 'daughters'. Or is that the other way around? Your last little display had me wondering who was getting who off."

"Stop discussing my sex life since it's not any concern of yours. And how about you drop the charade Molag Bal so I can tear your face off?" Giselle slammed her palms onto the table and let a hint of her power loose as a shadowy dragon appeared behind her, making her shadow unfurl dark wings before it became its normal size a moment later.

Giselle only narrowed her eyes when Molag Bal's shadow lengthened and became gigantic, dwarfing her own display without so much as a visible twitch of an eyebrow. "Still as impatient as ever I see. You'd think you would have learned by now that you can't fight a Daedra. Perhaps you need some time in solitary confinement again?"

"Is this before or after you 'ask' me to beat some follower to Boethiah bloody again?" Molag showed his first sign of annoyance when he crossed his arms over his chest and glared with such intensity, that anyone else would have been on their knees already. She only smirked and cocked her hip to the side. "You didn't bring me here to chat about your failed attempt to make me bend to your will Bal. What do you want?"

"It's not him that summoned you here, Giselle." Whatever snappy comeback she had on the tip of her tongue disappeared when she saw the newest arrival. Her mere presence had Bal growling low in his throat, but the Daedric 'princess' paid him no mind as she turned her gaze solely on the dunmer. "I did."

Her shock had worn off moments after it had hit her like a storm, but Giselle still felt the urge to show respect to the 'woman' that commanded the forces of Dawn and Dusk. Like Molag Bal, Azura looked exceedingly mundane despite the fact she could crush her under her pinky finger with a stray thought. She had decided to appear like a dunmer, skin as gray as ash, yet stunningly flawless in every sense of the word. Her hair was white to the point that it was almost blinding to look at, but it was her eyes that caught Giselle's gaze. It reminded her of the night sky of Tamriel, a night where the sky was alive with every color of the rainbow and didn't disappear until well into the dawn. "Azura. I thought I saw your hand in this mess when we hit the lunar gate."

"You didn't, but your captain did." Azura replied with a nod of her head. "You were busy, holding off the Tong to the best of your ability, a job you did quite admirably. You led your people to Westeros, you have established yourselves, and you are growing stronger by the day. But I didn't come here, across the Planes, to talk of your successes." With a dismissive wave of her hand, Molag Bal disappeared with a feral growl, which was quickly silenced as well. "Now we can talk in peace. Please, sit, we have much to discuss."

_End Notes; While I am not personally happy with this chapter, my beta, __**Archer83**__, and a few friends all say that it turned out pretty well, so I guess I'll take their word for it. In all seriousness, I appreciate the help and support they've given, and I also appreciate the following I have for this little story. I'm sure some of you guessed there was Daedric involvement by now, I just confirmed it by having them sit down and talk things over. D At any rate, enjoy and hope to see you next time! Adios!_


	6. Out of the Shadows

Giselle took a seat at Azura's beckoning, knowing better than to refuse her even if they weren't on friendly terms, unlike Bal. Even she knew when to cede to sense, instead of giving way to her urges born of her dragon soul, which often times included the desire to crush anyone foolish enough to try and make her bend to their will, regardless of the power they wielded. _Not all of my hot headedness can be blamed on that though._ She hid the smirk that threatened to appear as Azura waved her hand once more, summoning another member to their gathering. "Vaermina, I'm so happy you could join us dear 'sister'." Azura's voice sounded sweet and soft, but even the swirling star like pattern in her eyes couldn't hide her distaste of the Dream Eater among them.

A hideously old woman entered the room, dressed in a black, low cut, embroidered robes that moved with a mind of their own. Looking at the robe itself, Giselle could have sworn she saw the face of a man screaming in torment before it disappeared within the folds of the fabric. Turning her gaze back to the newcomer's face, which was pitted with deep wrinkles and liver spots, framed by wispy gray hair that was tied into a tight pony tail, Giselle had a feeling this wasn't going to end well given how their last meeting had gone. "Just because I've allowed you to enter the mind of the Dragonborn doesn't mean you can summon me here like a dog, sister. I will not bow further than I have already, especially for the likes of her."

"When you two are done arguing amongst each other, perhaps you can start making sense." Vaermina looked upon Giselle as if she had only just noticed her existence, but the dunmer only crossed her arms and began tapping her foot in impatience.

Vaermina glowered at Azura, still sore over Giselle and a damn priest's attack on her temple which had seen her Skull of Corruption destroyed, "Remind me why I haven't left her a drooling, slobbering broken shell?"

Azura's answer was simple and to the point. "Akatosh would destroy you if you did, as would Kynareth. Now keep quiet. I will need your help soon enough."

"Because holding this mental realm together isn't enough." Vaermina muttered under her breath, despite the fact it was an exceedingly easy task for one such as her.

Azura chose to ignore her comment and instead focused her attention solely on Giselle. "I know you've heard of the Wall, and the order of mortal beings that guard it. I also know you've heard of the Iron Throne, and how it was won, what it means for the people of the world I've allowed you to travel to."

"You _allowed _them sweet sister? At least tell her the truth, Akatosh demanded it of you." It was Vaermina's turn to smirk as Azura shot her a withering glare.

Giselle was becoming tired of the two bickering Daedric Princes, "I don't care about the politics involved. Get to the point or send me back."

Azura had to resist the urge to slap sense into her dark sister before turning her gaze to the dunmer once more. "As I was saying, your arrival to Westeros was _ordered_, but my dominion over Dawn and Dusk was required to open the way. The threat foretold in the prophecy will awaken in the North, far beyond the Wall, but it's not the only thing you need worry about Dovahkiin. War will blanket the land first, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Mephala, along with Sanguine, has already seen to that."

At the mention of war, as well as the fact not one, but two Daedric Princes were manipulating the people into it, Giselle sat up in the chair. "What in Oblivion are you planning to do to this world?!"

Vaermina was quick to take advantage of Azura's silence, a smug grin on her face as she took control of the conversation. "Oblivion is a rather fitting choice of words, coming from you, wyrm. Some of us grew tired of our Nine brothers and sisters, telling us how to rule our planes, how we can interfere with the mortals, so they've broken off and gone after new hunting grounds. Mephala is at the heart of it, as you can imagine. She isn't called the Prince of plots, secrets, and murder for nothing. Always spinning her webs, pulling the strings that bind your people together, and finding that one seemingly inconsequential thread before watching the whole thing unravel once it's been cut."

"Your glee is duly noted Vaermina." Giselle growled before rounding on Azura next. "So what do you expect me to do about this?"

"Prepare for the worst, and do your best to weather the storm that's coming, Giselle Morgonnis." Was all Azura said before disappearing, leaving Vaermina to finish things.

"I was starting to wonder if she'd ever leave." The dunmer didn't even have time to turn and face the old hag before she was pinned to the wall. While it was all in her head, that didn't stop Giselle from letting out a cry as her skull was dashed against the stone wall from whatever trick the Daedric Prince had used on her. It wasn't long after her vision started to clear, that she saw Vaermina standing before her, her staff's headpiece inches away from her chest. "I could destroy you, leave you a broken shell of your former self, screaming yourself hoarse in your sleep as I torture your mind with visions of horror you could scarcely comprehend, but Azura wasn't lying when she said the Divines would step in if I did. So this is my revenge for your part in destroying my artifact."

Even if she had had a sword handy, Giselle knew the dark tendril that glowed with a eldrith, purple light wouldn't have been stopped by a mere blade as it slithered out of the skull headpiece of Vaermina's staff before it shot up her left nostril. The moment it did, the pain from dashing her head against the wall was forgotten as every past injury she had ever suffered was brought back to the surface. Her first transformation into a werewolf as her bones broke and reshaped themselves, her muscles elongated, and hair exploded all over her body was the most prominent one, but that was quickly followed by her first dragon encounter. If not for the fact she had been wearing skyforge steel armor, the dragon's teeth would have shredded her apart when it snapped its jaws on her back and front. That pain was followed by countless others; arrows that had found their mark, sword slashes, hammer blows, and debilitating poison from giant spiders. All of that and more had Giselle screaming in mind rending agony.

How long she writhed and twitched like a fish on a hook, Giselle didn't know, she only knew that when Vaermina's foul sorcery ended, she was slumped against the wall, covered in an inch layer of sweat, her throat raw and her eyes were beet red. If not for the hand that yanked her head back by her scalp, Giselle wouldn't have been able to lift her own head to meet Vaermina's furious gaze. "Anger me again, and I will finish what I started here. The Nine Divines be damned, Giselle."

"Giselle!" Snapping awake, the dunmer had to blink her eyes several times to clear her eyesight, but when she was able to focus, she let out a relieved sob as Serana and Lucia's faces swam into her vision. She didn't let either of them say another word as she pulled them against her, glad she was awake, and with her sanity intact. "Gods, don't scare us like that again." Serana whispered when she pulled away.

"What happened?" Lucia asked, and from the horrified look on her face, Giselle had the distinct feeling that she hadn't exactly been still during Vaermina's brief torture of her mind.

"I'm alright now. I promise, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere like that again." Giselle replied as she brushed back a stray hair behind the girl's right ear before giving the two a brief summary of what had transpired.

When she finished, Serana could only sigh and clench her hands into tight fists while Lucia went back to burying her head against Giselle's chest, who wrapped her arms around the poor girl in an attempt to comfort her. "Did they bother to tell you where they are?" Serana finally asked, and from the look in her eyes, Giselle knew she wasn't wanting to have a friendly chat.

"No, but I have a feeling we'll know them when we see them." That brought something else to Giselle's mind though as she gently disentangled herself from Lucia's grasp and went to the nearby chest. Something Azura had said, or rather hadn't said, made her wonder about an old artifact she had salvaged for the Prince of Dawn and Dusk. Opening a false bottom in the giant chest, Giselle raised an eyebrow when she saw the last thing she expected to see. Azura's Star, once corrupted because she hadn't gotten to it in time, now had a pure duplicate of itself next to its dark twin. Despite her failure, Azura had still let her keep it because she had dealt with the mage, and now it seemed she was taking pity on her for Vaermina's actions against her. Which meant Azura no doubt knew Vaermina had meant to torture her from the start of their little meeting. 'Help', it seemed, had come later.

"Bitch." Giselle muttered under her breath as she picked up the beautiful star like jewel, and almost dropped it when it flared to life the moment the sun from a nearby window hit its center. "That's new." She said aloud before looking at Serana and Lucia, who were just as clueless as she felt.

The Star began to glow a sapphire color and was accompanied by a low hum, which only grew stronger the more sunlight it absorbed. The dark twin remained inactive, but she, Lucia, and Serana had forgotten all about it as the dunmer went to the small balcony attached to the bedroom and held the Star high. Again, she about dropped it when a single beam of pale white light shot out of the Star's center, and hit the edge of their encampment. The beam of light struck the ground about fifty yards away. At first, it appeared as if a pool of silver light gathered where the beam had struck. The hum was now loud enough that it was drawing the attention of the rest of the encampment. Suddenly, the pool of light began to rise slowly. The pillar grew vertically until it reached a height of about nine feet. The pillar then opened outward, and everyone gave a murmur of surprise. It was a portal, and there on the other side was Solitude, with the morning light at its back. It was a truly inspiring sight, but one Giselle knew they couldn't let get out as she reluctantly lowered Azura's purified Star, shutting the portal before anyone got brave enough to go near it.

"By the Nine!" Gunmar exclaimed from the front of his tent, and he wasn't the only one as dozens of others stared in awe at where the portal had once been.

"Is that what I think it is?" Adrianna asked about the same time, having just left her house to go to her forge.

"A gift?" Serana inquired, to which Giselle could only shrug. "What's the catch?" She snarled, missing how Lucia took a hesitant step back from the vampire.

"Easy Serana, you're scaring Lucia." Serana stopped baring her teeth and paled visibly before throwing a quick apology to the girl. When she was calm again, only then did Giselle address her understandably upset family. "I think I already paid for it when Vaermina had her fun at my expense." Just remembering Vaermina's 'revenge' had the dunmer gritting her teeth. Shaking her head, Giselle turned to the two and threw Azura's Star to Serana, who caught it with ease. "Put that back for now, but tell no one where it is. I want to test its capabilities further before I do anything else. If anyone asks, tell them the truth."

Serana nodded her head before asking the next important question on her mind. "What are you planning to do?"

"First we need to get to King's Landing as we planned. I'm not about to delay now that I know they aren't content to leave us alone." She'd need to talk to Nazir and see how young Mathias was adjusting, or if he had been disposed of as well. She honestly hoped it was the former. "Lydia, Gunmar, and Sorine are staying behind, so I'll need to find three replacements to fill the holes left in my Dragonguard before we leave."

"Any ideas?" Serana asked after she had put away Azura's Star back, a bundle of fresh clothes in her arms which Giselle took with a kiss on the vampire's cheek.

The embarrassed giggle Giselle ignored, save to ruffle Lucia's hair as she walked back to their bed. "Maybe. Regardless, I need to let the captain know we're leaving again and see if he'll keep an eye on things while we're gone, otherwise I'll have to find someone else to take the job."

"I doubt you'll have to worry about him saying no Giselle. He likes you, respects you too much to deny you anything."

"Me or you, Serana?" Giselle asked, a twinkle in her brown eyes which had Serana chuckling when she saw it.

"Very funny." She waited until the dunmer had her fresh shirt on before saying anything further. "gro-Malog is a good man. He's really stepped up for us, pulled the people together when we aren't around to do it ourselves. You chose him well Giselle."

"He reminds me of myself, when I had started to come into my own. I guess that's why I knew he would do as well as he has for our cause." Giselle replied with a somber nod to Serana, who had since tossed her her dragonbone sword belt, the swords sheathed and sharpened for the days ahead. "I'll be sure to thank him before we finish preparations for the journey to King's Landing." It was about that time that they heard someone knocking on the doors to the main hall. She knew what it would likely be about as she led the way downstairs once they were presentable.

The next hour saw Giselle addressing the people about that morning's strange phenomena, even for them. While magic was the norm, portals weren't seen often in any shape or form, and the last time portals of any kind had opened up, it had been during the Oblivion Crisis. Those had led to a place no one was brave enough to enter, except for one. Still, Giselle had allayed their fears, and told them what little she knew of the Star's power, and she promised to find out more as soon as she could, far from their encampment on the off chance it blew up in her face. That had earned her a few laughs and chuckles from the crowd.

While reluctant to go back to the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary, Giselle left their company in good spirits when she found Mathias was in good health. While he was still uncertain about his new 'family', she had assured him that as long as he didn't do anything to betray their trust, he'd be allowed to do what he liked so long as he listened to his superiors when the time came. Mathias had thanked her profusely for letting him live when she had finished her lecture, and she couldn't help but smile despite her mixed feelings about it all when she left the sanctuary a short while later. Now that she was leaving several members of her Dawnguard behind, she needed to talk to her replacements.

So she wasn't all that surprised that the moment she left the cellar door, that an argonian was waiting for her. "Veezara. Glad to see you back from the dead." The Shadowscale merely chuckled as he held out his clawed hand and pulled the dunmer the rest of the way out of the dark tunnel before she casually kicked the door shut.

"And it's good to see you again old friend." While part of his face was burned from the raid on the Dark Brotherhood's sanctuary near Falkreath, and part of one of his horns was missing, Veezara looked about as well as she remembered him. To look at his eyes and the half smirk that was always on his face, one would question his place among a guild of powerful assassins. But Giselle knew from experience that he was just as dangerous as any of them, if not more so. At her curious look, Veezara merely shrugged and chuckled again before he told of how he had gotten out of that mess. "I was quite fortunate Sithis didn't want me just yet. When the raid was over and I found Astrid's remains, burned and with a blade buried in her chest, I was able to find a few healing potions and nursed myself back to health. By then you had moved on, but the others at the Dawnstar Sanctuary had welcomed me back with open arms."

"Glad to hear it," Giselle said with a half-smile.

"As am I, Listener." Veezara replied, before he fell into step behind her. "I hear you're looking for replacements for your Dragonguard."

"That I am, and you were at the top of my list." Veezara looked slightly surprised at the news, but that sly smirk appeared moments later as he accepted the news for what it was. "So, what do you say?"

"I say I'll need to lose this outfit if we're going to be rubbing elbows with nobles and their acolytes." The customary enchanted leather armor all Dark Brotherhood assassins wore didn't exactly elicit feelings of trust for those that knew what it was, and Veezara wore the robes and the hood as if he had been born to them, which in his case, was exactly what had happened. All Argonians born under the sign of the Shadow were given to their own assassins guild, before they were sent to the Dark Brotherhood for the rest of their lives. "It's the least I can do, especially with my… appearance." He chuckled to himself, "It's not every day they see a walking, talking lizard."

"I paraded J'zargo around the northlands, seeing you wouldn't be so surprising." Giselle teased, earning her another light hearted chuckle from the assassin next to her as she reached for the front door. She turned and saw Veezara had disappeared, but she could just see a shimmer as the air where the lizard had just been standing distorted slightly, as if she were looking at a heat haze. "Illusion magic? You've been picking up new skills I see."

She could hear Veezara's chuckle. "I followed your example and thought outside my normal skillset, Sister. Besides, it makes getting around undetected quite easy. I would advise against looking into Lydia's bedroom window when they are….indisposed however." At Giselle's incredulous look, Veezara made himself visible and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "At first I thought something had gotten inside their house and they needed help. Turns out I was...sorely mistaken." He finished with a cough.

"Did you enjoy the view?"

"Shut up." Veezara grumbled as he winked out of sight again as Giselle opened the door and walked away with a laugh.

She found Mjoll and a number of eager recruits for their small garrison going through practice drills with the Lioness's favored weapons. "Stand strong! We are of the province of Skyrim, of House Dovahkiin, and we will defend our new homes with our lives if it comes to that. Now, again! Pair off, and fight with honor!" Mjoll roared, before turning to see Giselle and a shimmer of an invisible Veezara approaching the training yard. Though he was invisible, Mjoll could just about see the haze that surrounded his body, making a discernable shape. "Dovahkiin, to what do I owe this great honor?" When the group stopped to stare at their fearless leader, the Lioness turned her head and shouted at them to continue practicing, which they immediately did as the sound of blades meeting blades or shields began anew with gusto. "Milk drinkers, all of them, but I'll have them whipped into shape soon enough."

"Actually, you might have to find someone to take your place Mjoll. I have need of your strong arm when we go to the capital, Mjoll."

"Truly?" Just as Giselle was about to explain why she wanted Mjoll, the fearsome warrior figured it out herself. "Ah, I see. That's why Lydia was in such a dark mood when I called on her the other day."

"I can think of another reason," Giselle said, glancing at Veezara, who remained quiet save to nudge her in the side with an elbow. "In all seriousness, I forbade her from going with me because she and Sorine are expecting, and I would not put them in danger. Sorine ceded to my concern, but Lydia's too loyal and honor bound to leave my side willingly, despite her pregnancy."

Mjoll gave a wide smile that reached both ears "I'm always looking for another adventure. I would gladly go with you to King's Landing. But…" she looked over her recruits, "Who will take over for me?"

"Rayya, perhaps?" Veezara offered.

Despite the fact she was talking to 'no one' by all appearances, Mjoll bobbed her head in thought after she turned to address the invisible Argonian, "Maybe. Does she have any experience in leadership?"

"Couldn't hurt to ask I suppose. There's also Jordis." Giselle offered with a shrug.

"Calder." Veezara added to the growing list. "I think he has a soft spot for you, Mjoll." Both ladies glared daggers at him and he coughed, "Sorry."

"In any event, I'll be ready to go when you return Giselle. Just say the word." Mjoll said at last, and bade the duo goodbye before she turned back to her group. "What are you milk drinkers looking at?"

One of the cadets made the mistake of cracking a joke, "Awwww… you and Calderrrr?" Mjoll promptly cracked his jaw with her shield before leveling Grimsever's tip at his throat. "I didn't say a word!"

"Good. Now get up and get back to work." No one but Veezara could see the slightest hint of a blush on Mjoll's cheeks.

As he and Giselle made their way out, Veezara nudged her in the side, "Maybe we _should _have Calder stop by."

Giselle chuckled and nodded with a small smile, saying nothing. Just as they reached the main square, where half a dozen small stalls had been set up, a number of different items on display ranging from fresh meat to valuable jewelry, she heard someone call her name and turned. She frowned when she saw Lydia and Vilkas trying to force a way through the crowd that had gathered that morning. "I thought I told you you weren't going anywhere Lydia?" She said when the two caught up with them.

"You did. But since I can't serve as is my honor bound oath to do so as your Housecarl, I've talked Vilkas into taking my place until I can." When she met the former werewolf's embarrassed gaze, Giselle knew he hadn't had much choice in the matter, but before she could address this latest turn, Lydia held up a hand. "I know you're concerned, and Vilkas said much the same thing you did my Thane, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to go without one of us at your side."

"And what do you say to this arrangement Vilkas?"

The embarrassment left the man's face as he nodded to his wife before turning his gaze on Giselle and her hidden companion. "She's right, but I've come to realize that she usually is. But, we can agree on one thing Harbinger. Captain gro-Malog is not you, and so it will make her sleep easier if I am at your side if she cannot be."

Giselle thought for a moment, and then replied. "Very well. But if anything should happen to Lydia, you're coming back here. No excuses." Vilkas nodded, and Lydia looked appeased by the compromise.

"Thank you my Thane," Lydia bowed her head, "I know you'll bring him back to me, so I have nothing to worry about. Besides, someone has to keep his brother in line." Vilkas shot Lydia a quick look before smiling and giving her a quick kiss, joined Giselle.

Once Lydia was out of earshot, only then did Vilkas lean over and smack the back of Veezara's head, or at least he tried except the assassin ducked under the swing at the last second. "That's for trying to spy on us the other night, sneak thief."

"I'm sorry. I thought she was in danger when I heard her screams."

Vilkas narrowed his eyes, "And when you saw she wasn't?"

"I was…..too stunned to look away," Veezara paused before adding, "And intrigued. Argonians have a very different way of…."

"Stop right there!" Giselle slapped the back of Veezara's head herself, and unlike Vilkas, she didn't miss. "I don't need to know the difference, and if I hear it brought up again, I'll do more than that. That other horn of yours will be mounted on my wall."

"Yes Listener." Veezara mumbled, his head hung low for a heartbeat before he perked up. "If that is to be my fate, at least my horn will have a good view of your bedchambers."

"I'm starting to reconsider letting you ride with us to the capital Veezara." Giselle grumbled while Vilkas chuckled softly.

**One month later.**

**King's Landing**

"Lord Varys still hasn't heard anything from the Rills?" A man half the size of the few guards that were at his side asked, his face in a book while his eyes looked up to the road that led to the northern reaches of Westeros. It was another hot, long summer day, but he was quite cool as he sipped on a glass of summer wine and rested under the shade of a nearby balcony.

One of the guards was quick to answer the 'Imp'. Despite his stunted size, the guard had heard rumors of the cunning mind behind Tyrion's slightly misshapen head, and knew his reputation for whoring and outthinking anyone stupid enough to go against him. A word in the right ear, and Tyrion could have his head on a spike. "No Lord Tyrion. Whatever is going up there, none of his little 'birds' have reported in."

"So, someone's outfoxing the slyest man this side of the Narrow Sea. I like them already." Tyrion Lannister remarked, a small grin on his lips.

"You think it's wise to have these… foreigners here?" The guard asked, "We don't know anything about them."

"And if you read half as many books as I have, you'd know that we were once foreigners to this land as well." Tyrion was quick to say, looking up at the guard in his crimson and bronze armor before turning his eyes back to the book he had open on his lap. "Don't be so quick to judge a man just because you don't know where he puts his feet up, who his friends are, or what he favors for food, wine, and women. Or men if you're into that kind of thing." The last comment had Tyrion's guards laughing lightly, just as a cloud of dust in the distance caught their attention. "Ah, this must be them now."

"You realize your father won't approve of this when he hears."

"My father has that habit, I'll admit, but I find my curiosity outweighs any fear of reprisal. Besides, I'm only saying hello to the mysterious northerners that follow a woman of all things. And to make it more astonishing, she's willingly coming here. Now why do you propose that is?"

"She's looking to fuck her way to the Iron Throne like every cunt noble lady that comes here?" One of the guards asked, eliciting a round of derisive laughs and howls from his fellow Lannister men.

"I wonder." Tyrion said to himself, his statement unheard amidst the derisive laughter.

"Brother," a familiar voice called from behind him. He turned to see his sister, Cersei, walking towards him. She had her own personal guard of Gold Cloaks with her. Tyrion wasn't sure what he found more astonishing, the fact she had come down from the castle without being carried, or the fact she had come down from the Red Keep just to meet the strangers. Regardless of his surprise, she looked down the road at the approaching cloud of dust. "So… these strangers have finally come to their senses and have decided to come down here to King's Landing?"

"So it seems." Tyrion ignored her glance and continued to stare down the road. "Perhaps you could behave yourself this time?"

"Of course, brother." She motioned towards the steps with a wave of her hand, "Shall we?"

Tyrion raised an eyebrow, "Is King Robert not coming to meet his guests?"

Cersei shrugged and scoffed, "He's busy whoring and drinking, as he always is. As his husband it is now _my_ duty to greet our guests."

"It could be worse, I suppose." Tyrion mumbled as they walked down to the city gate and waited for their guests to approach.

"And how so?" Tyrion ignored the glare his sister threw his way as she turned her attention to the opening gates. "It is hot enough to melt the skin off of our bones, and I'm out here, doing Robert's errand. We know nothing about these people who have only now decided to meet us, so tell me brother, how could it be worse?"

"They're flying a flag of truce for one, and two, from what little we do know, they are a proud, honorable people not prone to tricks and backstabbing. Unlike us."

"You jest, as always, but mark my words, Tyrion, one of these days I'll have that tongue removed."

Despite the threat to his person, Tyrion only held up a finger and grinned at his sister. "Ah but without my tongue, I'd be of far less use to you. A mind as sharp as mine without its voice would be just as useless as a one legged horse." If Cersei had planned to say something else, it died in her throat when the indistinguishable shapes in the distance started to come into focus, and the strangers from the north revealed themselves at last. For all of his cunning and sharp wit, Tyrion found himself speechless when his eyes fell on the group that rode up to the city gates. He rubbed at his eyes and still the sight before him refused to go away, confirming that he wasn't drunk yet after all. All he had to do was look to his equally stunned sister to know she was seeing the same thing he was. When he finally found his voice, the party of eight had ridden by with only a nod to the guards and the Lannisters, completely unaware they had rode past the Queen herself. "Huh. Now there is a sight indeed."

"A flag of truce and yet they ride into King's Landing in full armor?" Cersei exclaimed, her eyes riveted to who she assumed had been their leader, a woman with dusty grey skin in plated or scaled, she couldn't decide which, armor of a like she had never seen before. And that was by far the smallest oddity she had noted among them, but her mind was still trying to process what her eyes had seen.

Despite his shock and astonishment at the strange appearances the group of eight he had noted, Tyrion recovered far quicker and addressed Cersei's question with a question. "Wouldn't you do the same, sister? You're entering another's city. One can never be too careful."

"And they ride right past us without courtesy?!"

"They're _strangers_, Cersei. I doubt they knew you were the Queen."

"Uncivilized barbarians then, something that crawled over the Wall for all we know. Or perhaps they came out of the Vale? Either way, I will not have them in the capital."

"Then I wish you luck in trying to remove them." There had been an undeniable air of unspeakable danger about most of the group, but for all that, Tyrion found them all the more intriguing. "In the meantime, _I _plan to get to know them. I happen to like their boldness in coming to our fair city in broad daylight, especially with a couple of men with fur and scales in place of skin."

"You're too trusting, little brother."

"I never said I trusted them, just that I would like to get to know them." And secretly, he wanted to see what Robert thought of them. He had a feeling the great fool would make the mistake of making a pass at the red head, with her great long bow and the bear claw tattoos on her face, and Tyrion wanted to be there for the aftermath. A woman like that would eat Robert alive, and not in the way he'd no doubt prefer. With a mock bow to his sister, Tyrion and his guards did their best to catch up to the newcomers, who had already drawn a large crowd of commoners and nobles alike. Luckily for him, the strangers kept to a slow and leisurely pace, no doubt worried they'd startle the masses into a riot if they did anything more than simply walk among them like giants. And half of their group certainly looked the part.

"Look at the size of that one dad! His sword is huge!" One excited boy said before the giant looked down to the child and nodded his head to the brave child, even as his terrified father tried to pull his son away from the spectral horse the dark skin woman rode. Its flaming blue mane of hair was off putting on its own, but the fact one could see the ribs in the dark horse's flanks even as blue sparks shot out of its hooves really made one want to duck under the nearest rock.

"What the Seven Hells is that thing? That a cat or a man?"

"Look at the lizard, half his face is melted off. The Hound's deformed brother maybe?"

"Demons they are! Stay away from them!"

"Shut up woman! The guards would have stopped them if they was demons!"

"Never seen a demon, so how would you know?!"

Ignoring the crowd's reactions altogether, Tyrion made it a point to be the first to officially greet them with the respect a visiting lord or lady deserved. "Welcome, strangers, to King's Landing." Tyrion called out, drawing their undivided attention as the eight turned in their saddles in one movement and looked around. "Down here my friends."

Collectively, they all looked downwards and a few of them exchanged glances when they saw him. The dark-skinned woman got down from her horse and approached Tyrion. With a short bow, having no doubt noticed he was too finely dressed to be anything else but a lord of high standing, she said, "You must be Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin, Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock."

Tyrion's eyebrows went up, "You've heard of the Lannisters?"

"Of course. Who hasn't heard of the Rains of Castemere?" The dark skinned woman replied, a hint of rage filtering into her voice.

"Ah, I see." Tyrion was not very proud of the song that was written to commemorate the total destruction of House Reyne. He also noted that the stranger was willing to speak her mind. She wasn't subtle about her distaste of Lannisters, and yet she knew him by name, which meant she was smarter than her brutish appearing companions. "I will admit that though our family's reputation precedes us, I am _not_ my father. I think you would agree that you shouldn't judge one individual based on the acts of his father… or his family."

His words had the desired effect when the woman's brown eyed gaze softened and she nodded her head in agreement. "That we can agree on Lord Lannister. I'm glad to see not everyone south of the Twins aren't so quick to pass judgment."

Tyrion didn't miss the way her eyes swept the crowd, and he wasn't the only one to notice the mounting tension in the air. "On that note, might I suggest you make all haste to the castle Lady…."

"I am Giselle Morgonnis, of House Dovahkiin, originally from the land of Tamriel, the province of Skyrim."

"Tamriel is spoken of in legends, alongside the likes of the Children and dragons. I find myself glad that not all of them were mere stories." With that, Giselle mounted her skeletal horse and led her seven guards down the road, leaving Tyrion smiling from ear to ear. He was not going to miss this for anything. Ignoring his sister's annoyed scoff when she finally caught up to him, Tyrion waddled off with all speed, determined to be in the Great Hall when Giselle made herself known to the King.

Robert Baratheon sat on the Iron Throne, with its supposedly thousand swords melted to form the seat itself, disinterested in the song the bard was playing in front of him. The words were flying over his head, so he barely paid any attention. The court watched with uneasiness as the bard did his best to entertain the king, but was unsuccessful. Just as Robert was about to wave him off without so much as a thank you, his hand froze when his eyes fell on someone that walked right into the throne room just ahead of the steward that was _supposed _to introduce visiting nobles the moment they arrived. "Uh, may I present Lady Giselle Morgonnis, of the province of Skyrim, and of her recently established House by blessing of Lord Eddard Stark, Dovah...kin? Dovahkien?" The man asked, in a vain effort to address her properly to the lords and ladies already assembled, according to rules she seemed glad to all but ignore as she pushed past the steward without a backwards glance.

"I can introduce myself just fine." The dark skinned woman said as Robert and the rest of his court watched her and her seven companions walk the long distance between him and the main door, followed by Tyrion and Cersei Lannister. When she finally reached the end of the hall, only then did she stop and stare at him for a long moment, as if taking a measure of him and those at his side, who numbered most of the Kingsguard, the Kingslayer among them, and found them wanting in some way. "You are the man that rules these lands?" She said at last as she turned her brown eyes on him at last, her face unreadable.

"You'd be wise to address him properly, Morgonnis." Cersei scolded as she circled around the small group of heavily armed warriors, her distaste and displeasure clearly etched on her face. "You stand before King Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

"And you are?" Giselle asked, a just noticeable rumble in her voice that had the hairs on the backs of more than a few necks standing on end.

If Cersei noticed the hint of danger in the dark skinned woman's voice, her face concealed it as she dared to meet her intense gaze with one filled with cold contempt and superiority. "His Queen, Cersei Lannister, and you will show the proper respect to me as well."

Giselle's answer was right to the point, and it had the audience at large gasping in shock. "No, I won't be. Respect is reciprocal, it is earned, not demanded simply because of who you are."

Cersei stormed towards the stranger and stopped when the giant stepped between her and her target, his arms crossed and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Out of my way, or I will have all of you executed on the spot for this outright treasonous behavior!"

"I'd love to see you try." The giant replied, a feral look in his eyes that Cersei swore became akin to a wolf's for the briefest of moments before they reverted back.

Before the tension could explode, Robert's voice boomed throughout the Great Hall, "ENOUGH!" He brought it back down to normal levels, "What brings you here to King's Landing?"

Cersei glared at the king, "They threaten us and disrespect you, and that's all you can ask?!"

"Quiet woman! You disrespected them. They disrespected you. It's only fair. Besides, it's not every day we see people with half as much bravery as these, dressed for battle and carrying enough gear between them to start their own rebellion."

Cersei glared back at the strangers, but said nothing else as she took her seat next to the fat bastard she called a husband.

"If we're done with this pissing match, maybe we can actually get this business done so we can get back home?" The giant man rumbled again, uncrossing his arms as he took a step back and to the left, having fallen back behind the dark skinned woman by a smaller but similar looking man that Robert took to be his brother. Cersei glared daggers at the disrespectful and crude language, but again said nothing, waiting to see what Robert would do now.

If she had expected him to roar in anger, she was sorely disappointed. Robert threw his head back and laughed while he pointed one finger at the group. "Hah! Now there's a soldier who doesn't lick his King's boots just because it's expected of him anywhere else! And you, are you sure you're a woman underneath all that armor? Bah, doesn't matter, you have balls, the lot of you, marching in here, ready for war by the look of you. I'll ask again, what brings you down to our piss pot of a city?"

Before she could answer, another of the King's court spoke up, a bald, powdered face man that smelled of rich perfume and moved with a grace that belied his girth. Something about him had Giselle's nerves on alert. "It is the duty of strangers to come and meet with the king of the land, is it not? And so, you have finally graced us with your presence after four months of living on our shores, Lady Giselle Morgonnis, Serana Volkihar," With each name he walked in front of them, "Delphine of the Blades, Farkas and Vilkas of the Companions, Veezara, J'zargo of the College of Winterhold, and Mjoll the Lioness. Collectively you are the Dragonguard, our version of the Kingsguard." At their incredulous looks, Varys merely shrugged. "I hear so many interesting tales from my little birds that are scattered throughout the realm, but most that enter your small territory do not return, or they sing no more for me."

"How in Oblivion do you know about us?" Giselle eyes narrowed, and made plans to sweep every corner of her small holdings for anymore of the spies Nazir and the Brotherhood had discovered already.

"As I said, and as many here in King's Landing will tell you, Tyrion Lannister among them, my eyes and ears are everywhere." As if to emphasize just how extensive his network of spies were, he gave the half man that had since waddled his way to the front of the hall a quick little wave before turning his gaze back to them. "I could even tell you which gate you entered the city from, if you do not believe me by now. It was the Gate of the Gods. I suspect you turned towards Riverrun on your way down the King's Road, or some other castle along your way, but given your association with the Starks-"

"We get the point spymaster." Delphine growled, hating the fact that they were seriously outclassed and outnumbered since Varys was right on all points. They had stopped at every castle in their path if they had been so fortunate, and had sheltered within their walls. Only twice had they been run off during their long journey to the capital, a fact she suspected Varys knew all too well.

"Yes yes enough with the bloody pomp Varys." Robert grumbled, and Varys turned to the throne and bowed before taking his appointed seat. "Now that that's out of the way, why'd it take you four bloody months to finally come down here?"

Giselle folded her hands behind her back and stood tall and proud before addressing the question poised to her. "I wasn't in any particular hurry to abandon my people. I saw our fields sown, our houses raised, and trade established before I even entertained the idea of coming so far south."

Before Robert could say another word, the Queen stepped in. "So you risked the wrath of the royal court just to take care of such brutes as those that stand behind you?" Cersei scoffed, just barely able to stop herself from recoiling when the scandalously dressed red headed woman, with a bear claw tattoo running across her face, growled at her.

Again, the growl in Giselle's voice returned, slightly louder than before as she rounded on Cersei. "I risked the wrath of what you call royalty by seeing to the well being of my own people. Unlike you, your Grace, I don't spit on the common people, because I used to number among them."

"And the creatures you bring before us? You rolled in the muck with them as well I suppose, and you claim you're a lady of noble bearing, fit to rule them?"

It took a visible effort on Giselle's part not to rush the throne and throttle the smug Queen, who saw the rage building behind her brown eyes. But before either woman could say another word, Tyrion intervened. "Really sister? Must you be so rude? These people are our guests, or have you forgotten our father's lessons on showing visiting dignitaries some decency and courtesy? They've traveled a long way to be here, and I for one would rather they remain friendly, wouldn't you agree?" Jamie shot his little brother a grin and a nod, which Tyrion answered with a wink before he turned his gaze on Giselle, who had since calmed somewhat. "Now, please continue my Lady Morgonnis, I can tell you that I am quite interested to hear your story."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow when Giselle looked to the most peculiarly pale woman he had ever seen, and noted that something passed between them before the dark skinned leader turned back to Robert. "We're here, as Lord Varys said, to present ourselves before you, and to tell you we mean you no harm. All we ask is that you leave us be to grow and prosper, far in the north, where we'll remain unless we're provoked in some way." She made it a point to glare at Cersei, her smug smirk disappearing, but Giselle had since turned her attention elsewhere. "We've also come to swear to carry out your laws, but if you're looking for loyalty and respect, you'll have to look elsewhere."

"And why is that, Morgonnis?" Robert asked as he stroked his bushy black beard in thought, a gleam in his eyes that few had seen since the Rebellion.

"Because I give both to only those I deem worthy of them. I have bent the knee to tyrants and worse, before I became strong enough and powerful enough to shake off their chains. Never again."

"I like her." Jamie muttered under his breath, a smug smirk of his own plastered on his face, which only grew when Robert bellowed out another laugh.

Waving a finger in her direction, the King stood to his feet and grinned from ear to ear. "You've definitely been living in the ass end of the North, you're just as thick headed as Ned. Fine, say the bloody words, and _you_." This he said as he rounded on the Queen, his wide smile gone. "You could learn a lesson or two in holding that tongue in check."

"Like how you keep your cock in your pants instead of in your whores?" Cersei growled back as she quickly walked out of the throne room, Robert's curses following in her wake.

"Seven Hells, that woman is going to be the end of me." With that muttered comment, King Baratheon sat back down in his Iron Throne and waved them on. He wasn't at all surprised when none of them knelt before him as they said the vows they were ready to give then and there, omitting the oaths of fealty altogether, as Morgonnis all but said they would. When it was over, Robert dismissed them with a wave.

With the court adjourned for the day, they were free to move about as they wished, and Giselle at least wasn't surprised when Tyrion waddled up to her and held out his hand. "You my dear have made quite an entrance. Let me be the first to welcome you to the Seven Kingdoms. Hopefully my sister will be kinder the next time you meet, or I fear she won't like the response she gets when she pushes you too far."

"Another word, and she might have found out far sooner." Giselle retorted, but Tyrion was glad to notice that when she took his offered hand, she didn't break every bone in his wrist. "Even so, I must thank _you _at least for the warm reception Lord Lannister."

"Please, call me Tyrion. If you'll do me the honor of escorting you and your wonderful entourage, I'd be quite the happy halfman as well. Though I do fear your giant friend might eat me." At that, said giant chuckled and made a show of licking his lips.

"You'd barely whet my whistle little lion." Farkas stated before giving the littlest Lannister a nod of respect. "Still, thanks for sticking up for us, even if we didn't need the help."

"Ah, but that is where you're wrong Farkas." Tyrion countered as he led the way out of the hall and into one of the many stone walkways that riddled the Red Keep. All the while he talked, giving them a grounds eye view of how things worked in the capital while pointing out the sights along the way. "King's Landing is no doubt abuzz with your arrival, and I wouldn't be surprised if half of you weren't propositioned for offers of trade, marriage proposals in the hopes of seating one of their sons or daughters in your lands, or threats and bribes long before you leave. I don't know how politics work where you're from Lady Morgonnis, but here, it is quite the cut throat affair all the way around."

"I gathered as much from what few history books I've been able to find that aren't written by biased authors." Most of the histories of the 'noble houses', and she used the term loosely for most of the southern lords and ladies, had been written by that particular house's designated historian. While informative, they had made it clear that they had their own opinion on their fellows, and had concentrated more on rumor and opinionated bias than hard fact. The only books of note she had read since coming to Westeros had been given to her by Eddard Stark, who had provided her with a complete history, legends, and songs of the Seven Kingdoms.

"An educated woman and a warrior? Now there is a rare combination. You'll do well here I think Giselle."

The rest of Tyrion's day consisted of learning more from Giselle and her friends, and while he was loath to leave their company, he got the distinct impression that if he lingered, Aela would shoot him on the spot when she expressed a desire to find the nearest inn and get a warm meal in her belly. So he bade them farewell, and found himself wondering if Westeros was ready for the likes of Giselle Morgonnis and her allies.

_End Notes;_ _Daedra in Westeros, Cersei is still a bitch, and Varys knows far too much as always. What could possibly go wrong? In all seriousness, this chapter again I think could have been better, but overall, it turned out alright thanks to __**Doctor Eagle**__. __**Nomad-117 **__and __**Archer 83**_ _helped a little bit as well, but most of the credit rightfully goes to the newest member of what we've started to call the 'Four Horsemen of Fanfiction'. Lol. Joking aside, hope to see you folks soon and I'll see you next time. Adios!_


	7. Welcome to King's Landing

**The next morning.**

Delphine didn't bother to knock when she barged into Giselle and Serana's shared room that morning, holding a letter in her hand. She didn't react save to forget her ire when she saw both women were naked under the covers, and waited until they were presentable before handing the roll of bound parchment to the dunmer. "I get the feeling her _Grace_ wants to meet you. One of her handmaidens came up to me just as I was getting ready to sit down for breakfast."

"What gave you that idea?" Serana quipped with a roll of her eyes.

"She can request all she likes, I'm not about to leave you alone in a room with that pompous milk drinker." Delphine retorted, ignoring Serana's question since all of her focus was on Giselle, who had just finished reading the message. "So, was I right?"

"No actually." Delphine was taken aback for only a moment. "It was from someone called Lord Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin and a member of something called the Small Council."

"Let me see that." Serana took the offered letter and read it over before she looked at the broken wax seal. "A bird of some kind, looks like a mockingjay."

"I know that symbol." Veezara stated, having been at the door until that moment, his arms crossed over a plain white shirt over a pair of rough spun brown leather pants. He had appeared in simple leather armor yesterday, appearing for all intents and purposes a hunter or a poor mercenary just starting out, and today he looked like any other commoner in the city save for his scaly flesh and horns. He shut the door behind him and nodded to the letter in Delphine's hands. "Our friend told our little 'family' quite a bit about the people in charge here. The mockingjay belongs to Petyr Baelish, who owns a series of small islands called the Fingers. People around here call him Littlefinger, but rarely to his face. He owns quite a few brothels in King's Landing, but it's said that he's deceptively clever and cunning. I'd be careful if you go and speak to him. He might fool even you with his silver tongue Listener."

"I know a thing about the nobility Giselle, not speaking with him could potentially be even more dangerous, especially after yesterday's meeting." Serana stated as she straightened her dress and made sure her hidden dragonbone daggers were securely strapped to her thighs.

After a moment of thought and looking out the small window that had a decent view of the main street below, Giselle turned to her group of friends. "Right. I plan to meet him and anyone else that's willing to speak to us anyway. Spread the word Veezara, Delphine, keep an eye open and a hand on your blades, and if you feel the need to explore, don't do it alone. I don't trust anyone here, especially if half of what Tyrion told us yesterday was the truth." She didn't need to say more as Giselle grabbed her sword belt before Serana helped her into her dragonplate armor's chestplate, boots, and gauntlets. While she was tempted to take the helmet as well, she wasn't quite that paranoid yet, so she left it on the nearby table. Once she was ready, she gave the vampire a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving their room with Delphine hot on her heels.

Neither the Blade or the Dragonborn were at all surprised that as soon as they reached the main hall of the inn, that they had to step to the side when someone fell to the ground right where they'd been standing. From the broken nose the man was sporting and the bruised jaw, as well as the loud cheers from the crowd, the two warriors knew what had happened long before they saw Aela standing not ten feet away, a smug look on her face. "Harbinger! You just missed the show."

"How long did he last against you Aela?" Giselle asked, chuckling as the man tried to stand to his feet, only to fall down again from the heavy punch he had received to his face, courtesy of the Huntress.

"Ten seconds! The crowd counted!" Vilkas stated as he raised his mug amidst a large roar from the other patrons, his own knuckles bruised from a challenger that had no doubt fared about as well as the man still trying to pick himself off the floor.

"Did he even get close?" Delphine asked, knowing the answer to her question as she swept her gaze over the werewolf, and saw not so much as a scratch on Aela's tattooed face.

"No, he did not." If not for the determined look on Giselle's own, Aela would have challenged her Harbinger then and there, to give the assembled crowd in the inn a true example of Skyrim fighting, but she knew when to keep such an offer to herself as she instead said, "Keep yourself safe Shield-Sister. This city isn't safe for us."

"I know, so if you leave, take someone with you." Aela nodded her head before Giselle and Delphine left to another hot, summer scorcher of a day. If not for the simple fact dunmers were resistant to fire and had come from a land that was considered uncomfortably hot on a good day, Giselle was certain she'd have been cooking inside her armor the moment she stepped outside. Looking at Delphine in her Akavari armor, Giselle grimaced when she saw the sweat already on her forehead. Digging into her pouch for an old fire resistant enchanted ring, she tossed it to the Blade who raised an eyebrow, but slipped it on without a word. The effect was immediate as she nodded her head in thanks before they continued to the address that had been written on the letter.

"You have got to be kidding me." Delphine couldn't keep the disgusted astonishment out of her voice when they finally found their destination after an hour of wandering the city. The red lantern hanging over the door was an obvious hint as to what awaited them inside, but if that wasn't enough, a few of the 'workers' were outside, barely dressed from the waist up. "We are _not _going in there to meet this bastard Baelish."

"Then wait here Delphine."

"And be mistaken for one of the wenches? No thanks."

"Who'd mistake you for a wench exactly? Last I checked, they specialized in removing men from their armor and gear by employing charms you lack old friend." Giselle teased, earning her a stern glare and a muttered curse that suspiciously sounded like "bitch".

Giselle stopped halfway across the street when Delphine spoke anew. "That does raise a good question though Dragonborn, how do you know so much about the life of a whore?"

Delphine regretted her question when she saw something in the dunmer's gaze that looked all too familiar. It was old pain, old memories she wanted to forget, and her question born of hurt pride had awoken them. "I wasn't always the woman you know now Delphine." Ignoring the strange but mostly curious looks from the women and their customers, which consisted mostly of off duty guards as far as she could tell, Giselle swept into the open door before it shut, leaving Delphine outside to mentally bash her head against a wall for her ill chosen comment.

The first 'working girl' that approached quickly went the other way when she saw the dunmer and the intense, determined look in her brown eyes. It was probably just as well as Petyr chuckled as he approached from a nearby stairwell, a noticeable spring in his step and a heavy book under his right arm. "You must be the one causing all the fuss. I admit, I had not expected to see such a beauty underneath that imposing suit of armor."

"You're Petyr Baelish?" Giselle asked, her arms crossed and her hard gaze leveled on him as she got a good look at him. He was smaller than she had expected, even a little handsome despite the first streaks of gray hair she could see in his short, dark brown hair. His light blue, almost gray eyes though was what held her attention since she could see a sly, cunning intelligence behind them, just as Veezara had warned her about. If she had already been on her guard, she was even more so now as she noted the widespread arm bow the Master of Coin gave her before straightening himself again. "Why did you call me here? If you were hoping to earn a new patron, you best look elsewhere."

Petyr chuckled and bade her to follow him with a wave of his hand. "Please, you do me a disservice Lady Morgonnis. While you have an allure I haven't seen before, I wouldn't risk your wrath by making such a discourteous offer. Only a fool would assume you're no better than most of the lowly women I've taken under my wing. You carry yourself too tall and proud to be anything less than what you are, and that is a strong, powerful leader of men and women alike."

"At least you're honest." Giselle retorted as they climbed the stairs and entered a room at the end of the hall. The sounds of moans from both men and women alike, she did her best to ignore, as well as the couples or small groups that were entertaining their respective clients right there in the ornately carved and painted hallway.

Luckily, her attention was diverted by Petyr's laugh as he opened a pair of oak doors and swept his arm forward in a grand gesture, allowing the dunmer ahead of him before he shut the doors behind him. At the passionate moans coming from the next room, which was cordoned off by a curtain of beads only, Giselle looked to the right and let her raised eyebrows say the rest. "I forgot, a party of two had wished the space next door. Ignore them, and please, you give me a compliment I don't deserve. I'm one of the most dishonest men you'll ever meet. Distrusting me is the smartest thing you've done since riding into the city yesterday afternoon." Without a word, Petyr sat down on a pillow covered couch, a table between him and his guest that was laden with fruit and bottles of wine and goblets made of glass. "A drink, some food perhaps? Or did you enjoy the company of another and her delicate parts before breakfast?"

"I don't see how that's any business of yours." Giselle growled before forcing herself to calm down. "I won't even guess how you know about my relationship since I've already gotten the impression our every movement's being tracked by spies from the Queen and her whisperer."

After he sat his book down on the table, only then did Petyr lean back and smirk up at the woman before him. "And mine. I have spies as well, some that number among both the Queen's and her pet eunuch." At the dunmer's confused expression, Petyr was quick to clarify. "Lord Varys, I take it you didn't know he is missing quite a bit below the belt."

Giselle crossed her arms and glared daggers at the appropriately named Master of Coin. "No I didn't, but then again, I don't make it a habit of spying on my neighbors for a living."

He only nodded his head, having expected as much from a northerner. "You don't approve, but you'll find things are more complicated here in the south. Everyone here is after the same thing Lady Morgonnis, and you'd be a fool to think otherwise. You're a threat, an unknown, and unknowns are considered a danger to the Game we nobles play. Already people are no doubt planning to move against you despite your desire to be left alone, but you have at least one more ally that you didn't have before."

"One I'd be a fool to trust, as you yourself said Lord Baelish."

Petyr grinned and chuckled as he poured himself a glass of his own wine. "Indeed, but at least you're aware of my distrustful nature, so you know not to trust too deeply in my counsel. But you won't make it in Westeros for long without allies both in and out of the north. That advice, I give for free."

"And what do you want in return for this little alliance Lord Baelish?" She was getting tired of this dance of words, and had decided to get right to the point.

"Nothing so costly as a marriage pact for which you can't pay up anyway, given your lover with the pale skin. The only thing I want, is to number you among my friends, and should there come a time I require your aid, well, I imagine you'll be there."

Giselle waved him off and took a step closer to the table, hoping to intimidate the man behind it. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We only just met and I already don't like you."

If she had hoped to put Petyr on his guard, she was disappointed when she saw the sly smirk that formed on his lips. "Good, but you'll find being in my service will be cheap compared to anyone else here. Even your Lannister friend, Tyrion, you'll find isn't so easy to hold to your side with simple tales of your homeland Lady Morgonnis. He fears his father far more than he lets on." When Giselle said nothing, Petyr's smirk only grew as he continued. "Any man may fold when the right pressure is applied. The trick is finding that weak point, and exploiting it."

"And I take it Tywin is good at finding said weaknesses and turning them to advantages." _Great._

"As are most of his family." Petyr confirmed with a nod of his head. "The Queen has a certain amount of cunning you'd be well to avoid as well if you value the continued safety and prosperity of your little slice of Westeros."

After a long, pregnant pause, Giselle asked, "Why are you helping me Baelish?"

"Because you need a friend… and I'm curious as to what you'll do next. You have said the few vows you promised to give to the King, why haven't you left if that was all you were here for?" At the annoyed scoff from the dunmer, Petyr knew he had hit the mark. "You're not as noble or honorable as your companions make you sound. You understand the need for allies, to gather power while the gathering is in your favor. Otherwise you would have hopped back on your strange horses and left the capital behind at first light."

"You realize you play a very dangerous game with me Baelish."

"Danger has its rewards for those willing to play the Game. And I don't think you have a choice whether you choose to play."

She doubted he knew their real reason for being there, about their need to prepare for a war that was coming from the North, from beyond the Wall, but that didn't mean his spot on observations didn't make her feel comfortable. She hated feeling outsmarted, outmaneuvered, and ever since they had come to King's Landing, everyone seemed to have the upperhand over them in terms of intelligence about their every move. So it was with great reluctance that she pulled up a chair to the table and chose her next words carefully. "Where do you suggest I start?"

If it were possible, Petyr's sly smile only grew to encompass his whole face. "Renly Baratheon is the King's well respected and well liked brother. Talk to him before you leave, you might find the Reach a valuable friend to have in your court. Stannis Baratheon on the other hand, is a shrewd, hard man of few words, but he is a brilliant warrior and tactician. While few people love him, earn his hard earned respect and you'll have access to almost half the kingdom with these two alone."

"Alright….what of Jon Arryn?" At her question, Petyr's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. "You're not the only one with their ear to the cobbles Lord Baelish. Lord Jon Arryn is King Robert's Hand isn't he?" The Hand acted in the King's stead, and from what Giselle had learned from Tyrion the night before, Jon Arryn often sat the Iron Throne while Robert whored, drunk, and feasted his life away.

"Yes he is, but you'd be wise to heed my warning if you try to befriend him. His wife, Lysa Arryn, sister to a certain Stark woman I've heard you know, commands the Vale, a mountainous region that no one has ever successfully invaded in centuries. The Eyrie is impregnable, or so they say, protected by three gates that lead up to the Eyrie itself, which overlooks the whole of their realm." No fortress was impregnable, but Giselle didn't need to read his mind to know they shared the same thought. Besides, she had one advantage no one else did, but she didn't feel the need to share that with the likes of this man.

"She's the jealous type?" Giselle asked, her curiosity piqued at this latest turn.

An advantage Petyr was quick to capitalize on. "She's always had a weak mind, but I imagine being married to an elderly soldier like Jon Arryn will do that to anyone since he gave her only the one child, and she holds too tightly to him some say."

"I'll bear it in mind." Petyr nodded his head when Giselle stood to her feet and started to the door, but she stopped and turned her head to look at him. "I still don't trust you, but I do appreciate you giving me what you have. However, if whatever game you're playing comes back to harm me or my people, I won't hesitate to come back here and kill you myself."

"I would expect nothing less from a potential friend today and an enemy tomorrow." It was only after she left and shut the door behind her that Petyr heard movement from the room to his right, and smirked at the Altmer that had been listening that whole time. "I take it you heard all that?"

"I did, and I can see why Elenwen hated her so much." The scantily dressed Altmer grinned towards the Master of Coin as she pulled her low cut robe closed, a human girl hot on her heels. "But I love how you've started to play your own little game against her Petyr. The King's court should have made you the Whisperer."

Petyr snapped his fingers and the young woman that had been 'entertaining' his guest ran off. What he had to say wasn't meant for anyone's ears outside of that room. Once he was certain they were alone, only then did he smirk as his bronzed skin guest sat down where the dark elf had been moments earlier. Even with the robe closed, Petyr's imagination supplied all that he needed to know. There wasn't an inch of fat on the self proclaimed mage before him. Whether or not she had any true magic within her, Petyr couldn't say, only that he was in no hurry to find out.

She was just as tall, just as fair skinned, and just as smart as he was, if not more so as he met her pale green eyes with a grin on his lips. Not only that, but the Thalmor agent for the rest of her people was far more alluring to his tastes than most of the women he had under his employ, but like Giselle, he hadn't made the mistake of trying to hire her in such a capacity when they had first met. "I just hope you turn out to be a better investment than your predecessor, Eldria. Elenwen let her hatred blind her, made her too wild and uncontrollable, but you on the other hand. Well, you've turned out to be far more cunning than most of your people put together."

"And the company you keep is far more pleasurable Lord Baelish." Eldria grinned back as she took a sip of the wine he had poured for her the moment she had sat down. She straightened and pulled her long, raven black hair into its ponytail she had come in with, back into its original shape, before addressing him again. "That girl did things with her tongue I didn't think were possible. But enough of that, I take it you sent the dunmer on her way with a list of people to talk to, when it was you she should have befriended. Too bad I was here first."

"Indeed Lady Joroth." Baelish replied, remembering a recent story he had heard involving the Thalmor's last leader. Elenwen had taken a long walk off of a short dock, with a pair of heavy iron boots attached to her feet, for her immense and irrevocable failures against Giselle Morgonnis. He was determined not to be the next one the Atlmer killed. "But we'll see how this plays out I suppose. So long as you keep up your end of our mutual arrangement, I'll be sure to keep playing things on my end."

"Very good Petyr. Oh, and if you would be so kind as to ship more of this wine to our little encampment with your next shipment of supplies, I'd be quite grateful." With that, Eldria went back to the side chamber she had come out of, and came out a short time later in full armor, a heavy staff strapped to her back, as well as a sword and shield on her hips. "Until next time Lord Baelish." With a saucy wink and a blown kiss in his direction, the Thalmor left his establishment, but as to where she went, he couldn't say since she disappeared from sight the moment she crossed the threshold.

**Later that day**

**The Red Keep**

Delphine had tried to apologize for her poorly asked question, but Giselle had waved her off as soon as she stepped out of the brothel, saying that it wasn't intentional and that she hadn't known. "There's a reason I don't talk about my past Delphine, so that's partially my fault as it is, and while I still don't like to talk about it even with Serana, she knows more than anyone alive. Ask her, if you really want to know." Was all Giselle had said on the subject, and Delphine had left it at that.

It was on their way back to the Red Keep that they were met by Tyrion Lannister. "I hear you paid a visit to Petyr Baelish. I trust he treated you well?" The halfman asked, and Giselle merely shrugged and said that he had. "Oh good, I would hate to have to explain to my father or the King why the Master of Coin was murdered."

Giselle made it a point to meet Tyrion's gaze before she replied. He wanted him to understand that she hadn't liked the meeting nor did she count him a friend. "I have more restraint than that, even if his main source of income makes me sick to my stomach."

Tyrion got the hint and merely shrugged in return before waddling towards the Red Keep's main gate. "Not everyone has as much honor as the Starks I'll admit, Giselle, but I do find it curious you went to him first. Still, it's no matter to me who you make friends with, but I would be careful when dealing with the likes of Lord Baelish. He's a sly bastard, and everyone knows it."

"Funny, he said the same thing about you." Giselle said, earning her an amused chuckle from Tyrion as the passed a group of Lannister men. Despite Petyr's warning to stay clear of Tyrion because of his father, Tywin, Giselle had no intention of heeding that advice. She had dealt with the likes of Tywin Lannister before, and she was still alive while her enemy wasn't. "I have a question Tyrion, and I'd prefer a straight answer."

"Because you talked with Baelish, I imagine he wore your nerves down with his continued dancing about." The dark elf nodded her head since Tyrion had hit the nail on the head. "I figured as much, very well, ask your question, and if I can provide an answer, I shall do so."

"Don't worry, it's nothing too big. I just want to know why everyone's in a hurry to risk all that they have for a chair that to me, is an eyesore. I understand the idea that the one who sits the Iron Throne controls the realm, but with Seven Kingdoms, it seems more like a ceremonial piece of furniture than anything of substance these days."

"I think you're the first person to realize the problem the Iron Throne presents for the unprepared and the unwary Giselle." Tyrion was amazed that a fresh face in the capital had asked one of the few questions that truly mattered. She truly was an amazingly capable warrior and intelligent woman if she was pointing out the obvious flaw in ruling a divided realm. "You're right. The Iron Throne is a symbol for a divided kingdom, which everyone is out to take for themselves. An united kingdom is not a viable option these days since there are as many Houses as there are people to rule them, and unless an exceptionally strong and capable leader were to rise up, I don't see the petty politics surrounding the Throne changing anytime soon."

"So we agree then? All of this maneuvering for a Throne over a divided kingdom is a pointless waste of energy?"

"It would seem so, and I never thought I'd ever say that. But that doesn't mean I won't stand by my family should the need ever arise, and war comes to the land again." Tyrion replied, and for the first time in his life, was left pondering questions he never thought he'd consider as he watched Giselle and her bodyguard walk deeper into the castle grounds.

Giselle meanwhile hadn't been surprised by Tyrion's answer to her question. Despite all of their faults, the dunmer had gotten the impression from her own dealings with the Lannisters thus far and the stories she had heard about them that they valued their family first and foremost. Their pride, their reputation as the most powerful in the land was well known by everyone, and Giselle knew that if war _did _come, the Lannisters would no doubt be at the heart of it in some way. She also seriously doubted that House Dovahkiin and the Lions would be on the same side.

It was with that thought in mind that Giselle barely held back the urge to turn the other way when she spotted Cersei Lannister and a small complement of soldiers. Delphine was the first they saw as she stood in front of Giselle, her hand on her blade while the other rested on her armored side. "Peace, Delphine was it? I only wish to talk and apologize for my abominable behavior yesterday. Your strange….friends took me by surprise, and I acted poorly."

Giselle and Delphine shared a look. "It's your call." The Blade said, leaving the decision to Giselle.

"If it makes you feel safer, I will leave my men here while I speak with your Lady." Cersei offered, and again the two shared a look before Giselle shrugged and nodded her acceptance of the Queen's terms. They tried to ignore the small smirk that graced the beautiful woman's face as she led Giselle deeper into the Keep and down a flower lined path, leaving Delphine surrounded by four Lannister soldiers.

After an awkward silence had fallen between them, Cersei stopped and nodded her head to three children of various ages playing amidst the flowers. All of them had blonde hair, and while only one was a girl no older than six or seven years old, Giselle could tell who they belonged to at a mere glance. "You've been blessed with three children?"

"Indeed. All of them are mine, all of them I'd do anything to protect." Cersei replied, and Giselle didn't doubt her declaration, soft spoken as it was, in the slightest. "And what of you Lady Morgonnis, do you have a child of your own? One that you nursed at your breast and held in your arms?"

"No...at least she wasn't originally mine I should say. Her family died during the early days of a civil war that gripped my homeland, and her aunt and uncle threw her out. I found her, begging for money on the streets of Whiterun, and I took her into my home and before long, I started to see her as my own."

"Adoption is just as noble in its own way I suppose." Cersei's hint of distaste at the idea of taking in a child off the streets wasn't missed by the dark elf, but she didn't get a chance to comment on it before the Queen continued. "Is she happy, this girl you've taken under your protection?"

"Considering I've given her as much love, warmth, and comfort as I'm able where her own family gave her nothing, I would say so. I've taught her what I've been able, shown her how to take care of herself, as have most of the people under my care and protection, and I couldn't be prouder of her. So yes, I think so."

"That's good. A child should want for nothing. When my oldest, Prince Joffrey, the tall one there," at this Cersei pointed to the oldest of her brood, "takes the Iron Throne when his father passes, he'll want for nothing either and he'll have the world at his fingertips. You and your girl would benefit from such an alliance, if you were after the Throne of course."

"But I'm not, as I said yesterday afternoon in front of your entire court. I only wish to be left in peace. I want nothing to do with a divided kingdom save to find what few allies I can, should I require them at a later date."

It was here that Cersei stopped walking beside her and instead stopped directly in front of the dark elf, her face unreadable save for a twinkle in her eyes that Giselle didn't like in the slightest. "All people desire power Giselle. You admitted to becoming stronger to overthrow your own tyrant in your homeland, so do not say you are the exception. Whether that power is earned or taken doesn't matter, only the climb itself does. Reaching your hand for what could be a powerful arrangement is the best thing you could do for your small number, and you spurn my offer at your own risk. Think it over, Lady Morgonnis, I have two sons, you have one daughter. It'd most likely be my youngest, Tommen, but you won't get a better arrangement."

_Except Lucia isn't some prized horse to be sold off to the highest bidder._ Giselle held the thought and kept it from escaping her mouth, barely. Instead, she asked, "Why would you offer me anything? What is it do you hope to gain?"

"You haven't been paying attention if you need to ask that question."

The answer came to her moments later, and Giselle felt like slapping a hand over her face for not realizing it sooner. "You want a foot in the north, and you think by offering me your youngest, you'll get that chance." There was far more at stake however, but whether Cersei was that cunning, Giselle couldn't honestly say. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter since she saw the trap for what it was. Lucia was from Skyrim, and with one of their own so close to the Queen, Giselle had no doubt Cersei would use every trick and ploy she had to learn as much about them as she could through the Nord child. While there were other ways to get that information, this ploy at least would seemingly benefit all sides, when in reality, the Lannisters would come out ahead. There was no way she'd let Lucia go anywhere near the capital, or the Lannisters for that matter, now.

Cersei meanwhile continued unabated, missing the dawning horror behind Giselle's mask. "Of course, but you would be a part of the largest and most powerful House this side of the Narrow Sea. You'd have to let your girl live with my family of course, either here or at Casterly Rock depending on what my father wishes, but I think that would be a small price to pay for your continued survival."

_Keep your badly veiled threats, I'd rather see Lucia marry a horker first._ "I'll have to think about it your Grace. She's still pretty young, only ten years old, and besides, we haven't been here that long. While your offer is generous, I'd rather not jump into anything too quickly."

The smug look on Cersei's face reasserted itself, and Giselle found it incredibly difficult not to Shout her through the stone wall. "Of course. The future is uncertain for even the most far sighted among us, so I applaud your wisdom in playing the field and seeing what prospects might work best for you, but I'd advise not to wait too long. The next time we talk, my offer might not be so generous." With that, Cersei led the way back to the courtyard they had left behind, where Delphine and the four soldiers had remained, giving each other wary glances across the pathway. Without a word, Cersei walked off with her guards in tow, leaving Giselle and Delphine to their own devices.

"I get the feeling that was far more than a simple apology." Delphine said after seeing the barely hidden rage in Giselle's brown eyes.

"You have no idea." Was all Giselle said on the matter, hoping that the next person they met didn't make the mistake of trying to anger her further. Waking her dragon soul was the last mistake any enemy ever made.

It was on their way to find Jon Arryn, Renly Baratheon, or Stannis Baratheon, that she told Delphine what had transpired. She didn't care who heard her, she needed talk, to cool her temper before someone pushed her too far, and Delphine was better than most when it came to offering wise counsel. Serana was the only person she valued above all others, but she wasn't around at that moment, the Blade was, and when Giselle finished, she was unusually silent. When she did speak, the dunmer wasn't surprised by the venom in her own voice. "And I thought Alduin was a bastard. Are you certain about this Giselle?"

"I'm certain of little when it comes to the people here, but what I do know says that Cersei is as every bit as dangerous as Baelish said. She makes Elenwen seem simple by comparison." Giselle countered as they made their way to the Tower of the Hand, hoping Jon Arryn was in so they could talk. If not, they'd have to find one of the others on their list of names, a prospect she didn't look forward to considering the sheer size of the capital. It was bigger than any of the cities in Skyrim, in all of Tamriel really save for perhaps the Imperial Capital in Cyrodiil.

Giselle sighed when they were turned away by the guards that barred the door to the Hand's chambers. She had expected as much, and while they were kind about it, she had a feeling someone was behind her prevention from meeting with Jon Arryn. She'd just have to find another way around, one that went around Lady Lysa's head, but for the moment she started back down the stairwell, and was stopped when the Kingslayer himself met her and Delphine halfway. "Jamie Lannister?"

"Giselle Morgonnis, it's truly a pleasure to meet you. Delphine, right? You're an oddity, some question whether or not you're a woman at all." The smug smirk seemed to be a part of the Lannister family line.

Delphine wasn't impressed as she crossed her arms and glared down her nose at the Kingslayer. "And some wonder if you're a snake in a man's skin, considering you killed the last king. But unlike most, I think you did the right thing. No kingdom should be ruled by a lunatic."

Jamie was left speechless for only a moment, but it was enough as Giselle nodded her agreement before the blonde knight found his voice anew. "I take it back, you're not too bad after all. You or your dark skinned friend here aren't all you appear to be, but I guess that's to be expected with anyone who claims to come from a land of dragons, trolls, and who knows what else." At her raised eyebrows, Jamie's smirk reappeared as he leaned towards Giselle. "Tyrion likes to talk, and we've always been close."

"Ah, I see. That look I saw pass between you two makes a lot more sense now." Giselle stated as she stroked the bottom of her chin in thought. "So, what can I do for you? More badly veiled threats? I admit I've had my fill of those already from your sister."

"Cersei already talked to you then. I thought I saw an unusually cheerful look on her face when I ran into her earlier." Jamie remarked, the gleam in his eyes only matched by the grin on his face as he turned on his heel and started down the stairs, with Delphine and Giselle on his trail. "As for what I want Lady Morgonnis, well, I honestly could give a damn what you're here for. What I _can _tell you is that if you're looking for the Hand, he's in the Small Council chambers. A meeting was called, but nothing you'd be interested in. Besides, it's a closed session, only the Small Council is allowed. But I doubt you'd care. You seem quite content to flaunt all of our little laws and rules."

"I only do what I deem necessary to ensu-"

"The continued prosperity of your people? So you've been saying since you got here." Jamie retorted, his smirk wide at the disapproval on the two women's faces. Before they could say a word to the contrary, the man waved them off. "Whether or not you're here for that or something else doesn't matter to me. My job is simple. So long as you don't make a move against King Robert, my sister, or their children, we'll get along just fine. Now, if you'll excuse me ladies."

When Jamie left their side with a nod of his head and a swagger in his stride, only then did Delphine's hand leave her katana's hilt. "Remind me why we're staying here Giselle." What she really wanted to ask she didn't dare, not with so many unfriendly ears around every corner, but Giselle got her meaning as she started towards the courtyard where they had ran into Cersei.

"I'm starting to wonder that myself."

**At the inn.**

Yoren didn't know what he found stranger, the cat that had sat down in front of him, or the lizard that had sat next to the hooded cat. All he knew was that despite the absurd situation he found himself in, the old crow found the two quite the conversationalists after he had managed to get a couple of pints of cheap ale down his gullet. "You're a Night Watch ranger then?" The one called J'zargo asked, and Yoren nodded his head over his mug of ale. "We saw the Wall when we were traveling the north lands, a truly beautiful if imposing structure."

"And cold enough that if you take a piss off the side, you're liable to lose your cock to the frost." Yoren laughed and J'zargo and his tight lipped companion shared a chuckle at the crude joke. "I take it you're the ones that all the fuss is about then?"

"Partially, although J'Zargo doesn't see what the big deal is. There are far stranger things in our homeland than the likes of us."

"For you perhaps ya talking furball, but for the likes of us? You're not exactly easy to miss in a crowd." J'zargo almost spit out his water when Yoren's words sunk into his head, but when he stopped coughing, he chuckled and grinned at the ranger. By then, Yoren had turned his grizzled face to Veezara. "And you, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the rumors I've heard about you being a freak brother to Gregor and Sandor Clegane were true, except I'm not that stupid. Only a simpleton would mistake you for one of those wild dogs."

"I'd hope so, I'd hate to be compared to such a pair. I have a little more respect for myself than a man who has such an unrefined knack for violence." Veezara's statement had Yoren wondering if running was even an option at that moment, but the cold words and the equally cold gaze from the strange lizard softened. "I admit that I've killed for less than reputable people, but death comes for everyone at some time, I just make it a point to make my victims' deaths as quick and painless as possible."

"A mercenary with a conscience? Never thought I'd hear that."

Veezara chuckled low in his throat, and held back the desire to correct the crow's title for what he did for a living. Mercenaries were too unrefined, too imprecise, unlike a master assassin like himself. "You'll find Skyrim's people are full of surprises, Yoren." Was all the argonian said for half a second. "That does raise the question, what are you doing in the capital? You're far from home, like us."

"I'm just here looking for men for the Wall. Wandering crows like myself travel to every corner of Westeros, hoping to find eager recruits to serve in the Night's Watch, but these days, we're lucky if we get anyone from the dungeons."

"And why is that?" J'zargo asked, having only heard a basic history about Westeros in general.

"Used to be, serving in the Night's Watch was considered an honor, but that was a long time ago. Now, we get whatever the rest of the world doesn't want. Rapists, murderers, thieves, bastards, some folk just born poor looking for steady feed for themselves."

"Hold on, you train criminals to fight better?" Veezara found the idea utterly ridiculous, but even before Yoren said another word, he had a general idea as to why they would take such a colossal risk in his opinion.

"As I said, we take what we can get anymore. We waste nothing at the Night's Watch." Yoren said with a shrug. "And what about you folks? You have anyone you're hoping to get rid of wherever you hail from?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but speak with our leader if you like. Giselle Morgonnis is a good woman, and I think she'll be quite interested in talking with you Yoren." Veezara replied, and was about to say more until the door to the inn opened. "Ah, there she is now. Giselle, we were just talking about you."

Her dissatisfied glare disappeared when she turned to face the odd pair sitting with a man she didn't recognize. "Were you now? All good I hope."

"Nope, we were just telling him how much of a cruel woman you were." Veezara retorted with a chuckle.

Giselle gave a sly smile and looked at the stranger, his completely black and dirt streaked armor marking him as a potential friend if she remembered the stories involving his order correctly. "Did he tell you about the time he spied on a woman in… relations with her husband? That should be enough to send him to the Wall, wouldn't you say?" If it were possible, Giselle was sure Veezara's face would have melted from his embarrassment at being reminded of that particular misadventure.

Yoren only added insult to injury as he laughed and grinned from ear to ear. "You didn't strike me as the type Veezara. I take it they were up to some tricks that made even you blush?"

"You could say that. Excuse me, I think I need to walk off of a cliff." The assassin made a hasty retreat, but not before shooting Giselle a glare that promised revenge for her part in his embarrassment. She merely smirked and silently challenged him to do his worst before he left the main hall and went back to his room, leaving J'zargo at the table with Yoren.

"If uh...you're done playing the villain Giselle, allow J'zargo to introduce Yoren of the Night's Watch. He's here looking for people for the Wall."

"A noble venture from what I've heard Yoren. Any luck?" Delphine asked as she and Giselle sat on either side of the kajiit mage.

"Nah, and more's the pity. Most of the folks I found are either too old or too violent, even for us to handle."

"How do you mean?" Delphine asked.

"We might be desparate for men to stand guard on the ass end of the world, but even we have standards on who we'll take. Some folk are too rabid, too uncontrollable or set in their ways to be of any use to us. Most of our recruits are young lads, who quickly forget what summer is like by the time a year has passed in the frigid north, provided they live that long."

"Why do you take criminals and worse at all?" Giselle asked, and held up a hand before Yoren could give the same answer he had given to Veezara. "It seems to me you're inviting trouble, training murderers and rapists to hold a sword."

"The thought has crossed my mind, but we can't afford to be picky. Sometimes you need to do what's wrong in order to later do what's right. 'Sides, as I told your friends earlier, not all of them are bad folk. Most are just looking for a home where they can be a part of something, others just looking for steady feed."

Giselle processed this for a moment, and then asked, "So what brings you to us? Are you looking for more men from our numbers?"

"I hadn't planned to ask in all honesty, seeing as how you're new around these parts and I wasn't sure about you, truth be told. But after spending time with your friend with the scales and him," Yoren pointed to J'zargo, "I can see you're just like the rest of us, just trying to get by. Not sure if the boys back home would see it that way, but Lord Commander Jeor Mormont would. Good man, strong leader, but getting up there in age."

Giselle and Delphine shared a brief look before she addressed him anew. "You're a wise man I see, despite your rugged appearance. I think, we might be able to spare a few of our people, if they're willing to go. If you find yourself in our territory, you have my permission to ask for any willing to follow you."

"Thank you kindly. And you aren't too bad yourself m'lady."

"Please, call me Giselle. I got enough of Lady this and Morgonnis that to last me two lifetimes."

At this, Yoren chuckled and nodded his head as he stood and held out his hand to the dunmer who took it without a second thought. "Well on that note Giselle, I'll see be seeing you around I suppose, unless you're leaving soon, in which case I'd be happy to come with you so I know where to find your folks later."

"Planning to stalk us already? We've only just met." Giselle teased, earning her a grin from the rugged ranger. "I had hoped to meet a few more people today, but no one seems to know where they are, so my plans at the moment are uncertain. However, I could have someone guide you back." And she had the perfect Nord in mind as she leveled her gaze on Vilkas, who was currently talking to several patrons, no doubt about past adventures if the rapt attention the men around him were giving the Companion was any indication.

"If it's not too much trouble. I'd appreciate the guide and a chance to travel with one of you Skyrim folk." Yoren replied with a nod as he turned and followed her gaze to the former werewolf, unaware he had been anything but human once upon a time.

"Vilkas!" Giselle shouted, drawing the man's attention before he walked to their table. "I have a task for you old friend."

"Trying to get rid of me I see." The man said, having had a feeling the moment his name was called and he saw the man in black, that Giselle had found a way to kill two horkers with one arrow. "Very well, but you know Lydia won't forgive you for this."

"I'll deal with her when we return Vilkas. We shouldn't be long. As soon as our business here is done, we'll make all haste back to our home, I promise."

"Very well then." Was all Vilkas said before he turned to Yoren. "Let me just grab my things and we can be on our way."

"Alright, and thank ya in advance Vilkas." When the Companion left, Yoren looked to Giselle and her friends. "Why do I get the feeling he's going to leave me with my entrails hanging out of my stomach?"

"It's not you J'zargo's worried about." J'zargo said as he playfully nodded his head towards Giselle.

"Vilkas is an honorable man and a stronger fighter. Trust me, he'll see you safely to your destination Yoren. J'zargo's right though, it's me I'm worried about." Lydia would be the far more fearsome opponent than Vlikas when she learned she had sent her husband back alone.

"Well if I see you again, I hope it'll be with all your vital organs still intact." Yoren grinned as his comment earned him a round of chuckles just as Vilkas came down. "Good luck to ya and yours Giselle."

"You too Yoren." Once they had left, Giselle turned to her two tablemates and offered them a small smirk. "I kinda like him. A bit rough around the edges, but who wouldn't be, walking the cold length of that place?"

"Indeed Dovahkiin."

"Are you the one called Giselle Morgonnis of House Dovahkiin?" A voice asked from behind the trio, and they turned as one to who had asked. Giselle was the first to see the pin attached to the man's finely made tunic. The white eagle on a blue field that was embroidered to his clothing also told her all she needed to know.

"I am," Giselle stood to face the man, "And you must be Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King."

"That I am." The elderly gentleman said as he held out his hand to her. "I've been meaning to speak to you at your earliest convenience Lady Morgonnis."

_End Notes; __**Vergil1989**__; At last, another chapter, another turn of events. Cersei might not have secured an one sided alliance, but she still found out a potential weakness she will no doubt try to exploit later. Giselle makes a potentially bad deal with Petyr Baelish, and we learn that not all of the Altmer are dead, but have simply been hiding in as yet unrevealed location. What could possibly go wrong? I'd like to end this little note section with a thank you and a shout out to __**Doctor Eagle**__. If you haven't seen his own story, __**Of Kings, Draugr, and Dragons**__, I'd suggest giving it a try. At any rate, adios and may the Nine bless your path!_


	8. Playing the Game

"What did you wish to talk about?" Giselle asked as she followed Lord Jon Arryn out of the inn with his silent prompting, glad that Mjoll and Serana had decided to tag along. The streets of King's Landing bustled as normal, although Giselle still received furtive glances, but she didn't know whether it was because people were still not used to her being a dark elf, or whether it was because she was with the Hand of the King. Either way, she didn't care, so long as they only looked.

If Jon was surprised by the two women that followed on the dark skinned woman's heels, he didn't show it. If anything, he almost seemed to gaze at them in approval when he glanced over his shoulder at them. "Nothing too pressing at the moment Lady Morgonnis, I find I'm just as curious about you all as most of King's Landing. I might be an old man, but I'm not a fool like most. I do not pass judgment lightly, and I like to think of myself as able to learn from anyone I speak with."

"It is little wonder we've heard that the people here like you so much." Mjoll stated, and earned a quick nod from Arryn for her observation.

"Unfortunately, I do not think that can be said of everyone," Lord Arryn said grimly. "I can name a few on the Small Council alone that would like nothing more than to seize what is mine."

Giselle nodded her head, having a feeling she knew at least one that seemed the type. "Because the Eyrie is supposedly impregnable?"

"Indeed, but I think we both know no fortress is without its weaknesses, just as most people aren't without their vices. Those same vices, have been used to great effect to take down even the strongest warriors when they come here to the capital for one reason or another. But you're different." Jon stopped and turned to regard the strangers. "Despite the fact you've been seen in Lord Baelish's company, as well as the Queen's, you've yet to pick a side that wasn't your own. As for your allies, they too are just as defiant and wise not to take anything at face value from what I've heard."

"Why do I get the feeling you talked about us during that Small Council meeting we heard about from the Kingslayer?" Serana asked as they started walking through the street again, her glowing eyes fixed solely on the older man who nodded his head to her pointed question. "You don't deny it."

"There would be little point for me to lie." Jon replied evenly, although his hand fell to the castle forged sword on his belt as he met the vampire's intense gaze. "We talked, and it was decided to simply observe you and your people, provided Varys's little birds are able to get close enough." He added with a chuckle.

"I wish them luck. I heard the last ones that tried were found floating into the ocean." Serana quipped, even as Giselle shot her a look that said not to mention that little story even in jest.

Lord Hand Arryn either didn't hear her comment, or ignored it completely, "I have heard several conflicting reasons for your coming here to King's Landing, and to Westeros, for that matter. I would like to hear it in your own words, rather than hearing a… tainted tale."

Giselle nodded her head, while Serana crossed her arms just as Mjoll offered the wise man a small smile for his wisdom in coming to speak to them himself rather than listen to hearsay and rumors. So when the others turned to her, Giselle took the initiative by asking, "While I applaud your coming to us yourself, I do find myself curious as to what the others had to say about us. Call me morbidly curious."

Jon nodded, acknowledging the woman's suspicion, "Grand Maester Pycelle had a few things to say, claiming you were evil abominations, especially with your company of walking cats and lizards. Lord Varys said you were as you claimed to be, despite the mysterious disappearances of his little birds anytime they entered your small holdings. Lord Stannis didn't have much to say at all, save that he would reserve his judgment. His brother Renly however, did seem eager to meet you, although I suspect he has an ulterior motive."

"Doesn't everyone?" Serana murmured.

"Not everyone." Jon was quick to point out, and the hard look in the woman's face disappeared. "The trick lies in finding out who does and who doesn't. Who to trust and who not to trust. It's all part of the Game."

"I've noticed, and it's one I don't plan to play at all." Giselle replied sternly, hoping that the subject would be dropped.

Arryn however, was far shrewder than she had expected, and pointed out as much when he put a hand on her upper arm. "With all due respect, Lady Giselle, I don't think you had a choice. You moved a piece the minute you arrived here in Westeros. And then when Varys made his move, you countered when you came here to King's Landing. Whether you like it or not, you are now playing the Game."

Giselle stared the man straight in the eyes, "Am I playing the Game with _you_?" She asked point blank, and gauged his reaction to see if she had put him on his guard.

Again, Jon proved a far more capable opponent than most, either because he truly was as honest as he claimed to be, or he was far smarter than he let on. Either way, he didn't react in the way she had hoped he would as he merely met her gaze. "I'm one of the few that try not to get too deeply involved, because I have enough pieces on my board as it is. I know you've likely heard what the Hand does for the King. The Hand rules in the King's place, and I find myself on the Iron Throne more than I'd like to be. I've tried to counsel the man who's supposed to be there, but he does what he likes… and who he likes, regardless of what anyone says. I don't know where I went wrong when I fostered him and Lord Eddard Stark, I only know that if not for me, I think you'd have found the Seven Kingdoms in far worse shape than they are now."

Giselle knew then that Jon had been honest from the start when she saw the weariness behind his brown eyes. It wasn't just born of the war he had been a part of, but of the 'war' he fought daily with King Robert himself, to try and get him to act like a King. A war he was losing. And the fact he admitted as much to her said that it wasn't that much of a secret, but she also saw that he didn't say it easily from the look in the older man's posture which was slightly slumped over. "I think," Giselle began slowly as she looked upon the man with newfound respect, "that the people owe a great debt to you Lord Arryn."

"As your people owe a great debt to you. I might not believe that you're here solely to find a place away from your homeland, but I don't believe for a moment that you're here to take over all of Westeros like the Targaryens of old."

"I have no interest in ruling a divided kingdom, as I told Tyrion Lannister. My only wish is to live in peace, to ensure our way of life is preserved, no matter what." Jon only nodded his head, knowing one thing was certain. If anyone was foolish enough to stand in this mysterious woman's way, they would fall, hard. He left their company, unable to help but compare the Robert he had once known, the man that had united a kingdom in common cause against a mad king, and Giselle Morgonnis who, by her own account, had led her people away from a war ravaged country in the hopes of starting anew only to find themselves in another war ravaged country. Despite this, Jon had the feeling they'd do well here.

Giselle, Serana, and Mjoll watched him walk away, back towards the Red Keep. "I like him," Mjoll said finally, having said nothing all this while. "He knows he fights a lost cause, but he does it anyway for the safety and continued well being of this land."

"Sounds like someone we know," Giselle said with a grin as she turned to Mjoll, "You did the same for the people of Riften when the Thieves' Guild and Maven Black-Briar were in charge."

"And the fact the Thieves Guild mysteriously stopped robbing _everyone _in the city had nothing to do with you." Mjoll retorted, a grin plastered on her lips as Giselle tried not to show how right she was, even if she didn't know the details. They still operated, but thanks to her aid, they were able to hit the richest houses and castles with impunity. "In all seriousness Giselle, I am worried about something Lord Arryn said. If not for him, this world would be in far worse shape. If something were to happen to him, what happens to the rest of us?"

"I think that's a question we don't want to answer." Giselle said at last as they headed back to their lodgings.

**Red Keep**

**Later that day.**

Aela and Veezara walked along the stone walkways of the Red Keep, overlooking Blackwater Bay. The sun shone on the water, reflecting it towards the east. It was a beautiful sight, but it was the many ships going in and out of the port that had their attention, as well as one Tyrion Lannister who was situated on the stone railing. "I take it you're unfamiliar with the sigils on their sails." Neither Aela nor Veezara answered him. "Luckily for you, I happen to know a few." he pointed out to one ship. On its flag was a black stag on a gold background, "That is House Baratheon, the House our good King Robert hails from."

"And that one little lion?" Aela asked as she pointed to a red sun with a golden spear on an orange background.

"House Martell I believe, one of their merchant vessels. All the way from Dorne. She's a long way from home." Tyrion remarked, his interest piqued as he swung off of the railing and landed lightly between the two. "And that one, the golden rose on a pale green field, is House Tyrell."

"I've heard that each House has their own motto," Veezara said inquisitively, "Is that true?"

Tyrion nodded, "Indeed. House Tyrell's motto is 'Growing Strong'. House Martell's words are 'Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken.' and House Baratheon's words are 'Ours is the Fury'."

"And yours is 'Hear Me Roar.'" Aela said with a smile, "Sounds like words I can get behind."

"We do have a common saying amongst our House," Tyrion said with a smirk, "A Lannister always pays his debts. Most of the time it's assumed we mean simply that we have the money to pay any price, but that is only partially true."

"You repay slight with slight. Revenge is your bread and butter." Veezara stated, earning him a nod from the dwarf who was leaning against the stone railing, a small, satisfied grin on his face. "Revenge has a funny way of biting you in the rump when you least expect it little man."

"So far, it hasn't been a problem for us Lannisters. Just ask the Reynes." he turned to the strangers, "So… I've heard you've decided to make your own House. House Dovahkiin?"

They shared a look, but Aela only shrugged since she saw no harm in sharing what would become commonly known anyway. "Indeed little lion. Skyrim is a land of hardships, but it is a beautiful, serene place for those strong enough to survive there. In recent years, we've fought a civil war, saw our land restored to the Empire that rules the whole of Tamriel, and now we've come here because of one woman."

"Your Dovahkiin, or as I've heard her called, the Dragonborn." Tyrion said, ignoring the slightly surprised looks from Aela and Veezara. "Have you decided on a motto for your House? All great Houses have words."

"There's been some debate on that actually." Veezara said with a shrug. "But I suspect we'll figure something out by the time we get back. Giselle's a smart woman that way." He chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Tyrion, curiosity clearly etched on his strange face.

"I see. That does bring me to something I've been meaning to ask, just what are the Companions? I heard the name mentioned when Varys was making his rounds, but I never got the chance to ask."

Aela grinned from ear to ear before answering, "We're a band of warriors, bonded by fire and blood in honorable battle. We raise our mugs in the hall of Jorrvaskr and sing the praises of our fellow Shield-Brothers and Sisters, so that our enemies run when they hear the roar of our voices. We are proud, skilled, and willing to take on any job so long as the coin is good."

"Mercenaries then? Sellswords? I didn't think a people that boast of their pride in battle and honor would have such a group among them." Tyrion observed casually, and almost regretted his words when Aela looked down at him in mild outrage. It was the look in her eyes that had him backpedaling however, as they shifted for just a moment to shine like that of a wolf's before losing their feral gleam. There was something slightly unnatural about the red head.

Even when she bent forward so that they were almost eye to eye, affording the normally lecherous Imp a rather alluring sight down the front of her leather and fur lined armor, Tyrion could do nothing but meet that feral gaze. "We do not fight solely for money. We fight because we are proud and willing to take on any foe, no matter the odds. The Companions have _never _run from a fight. Kodlak Whitemane and Skjor, two of our greatest warriors, took on the Hundred Orc berserkers alone, and won. Such is our strength and trust in each other. We are without equal on the field of battle, and our glorious deeds are known from one end of Tamriel to the other."

Tyrion had to swallow and gather whatever courage he had left as he fought to keep his voice level. "In Tamriel perhaps, but here you will be seen as nothing more than another group of sellswords who do what all sellswords do. They fight for the winning side."

"An assumption I'll be happy to shatter the first chance I get." Again, Tyrion found it hard not to run when he heard a deep, menacing growl in Aela's voice. It seemed he had touched a nerve, and he wasn't eager to provoke her further.

"I don't doubt it." Tyrion replied at last before turning his gaze to Veezara next. "And what about you? For a….man such as yourself, I have to wonder what you do for a living. You certainly don't strike me as the loud and boisterous type like your female friend here."

"You'd be right. I'm nothing special though. I'm merely a ranger, a scout when the need arises." Veezara said with a shrug. It was an easy enough lie since it had an element of truth to it.

Tyrion didn't believe it, finding it too easy an answer without enough information to go on. Veezara offered just enough to satisfy most people's curiosities, but not his. He knew a half truth when he heard one, but he doubted he'd get more than he had from the Argonian, he believed Veezara had identified himself as earlier. Instead he said, "Then that makes you the oddest pair this side of the Narrow Sea, and not because you're something other than human Veezara."

"If you mean he is some demon from one of the seven hells, Lord Lannister, then you'd be correct." Tyrion sighed when he heard the all too familiar clinking of Grand Maester Pycelle's chains as the old man himself shambled towards them. "But for a demon, you are surprisingly well mannered."

"Perhaps because you haven't seen a real demon old man. I have, and they aren't nearly as talkative." Veezara grumbled, his hand idly falling to his side, where he kept a spare dagger on his belt.

Only Tyrion saw the gesture for what it was, and had to fight to hide the smirk on his face even as he subtly shook his head. Veezara cocked an eye ridge but nodded, letting his hand fall away. "Grand Maester Pycelle, so good of you to join us. I had thought you had some important matter of state to attend to in your bed chambers." While he had yet to catch him in the act, Tyrion's slight had the old man stopping in his tracks.

"I am an anointed septon of the Seven. I live a frugal, meager existence in service to the gods. I have advised kings, princes, and their lords for many years. If I were not so loyal, do you think I would not be punished?"

"Maybe you just weren't caught." Veezara retorted, having caught onto Tyrion's line of thought. "Or you have the protection of someone higher in station, which you hide behind if you have to."

"Smug words from a….man that isn't a man." Pycelle countered, the briefest hint of a smirk appearing on his aged face as he stood as straight as his heavy chains allowed. At least, that's what everyone no doubt expected, but the assassin knew better. There was something about the old fart that struck him as surprisingly hearty and hale despite the old man's attempt to say otherwise in his shambling about, his back bent forward and his walk slow and measured, as if every step pained him.

Still, Veezara merely waved him off, seeing him as nothing more than someone playing the part of an old fool, acting like he was dumber than he looked. "If it helps you sleep at night, I suppose I can deal with you condemning me to whatever hell you like, but you might find one day it'll be you that meets his end before me."

"That could be taken as a confession of your evil intent, monster."

"Or it could be taken as you simply dying of old age." _Or a 'fall' down some stairs._

"ENOUGH!" Aela roared, having had enough of their pointless bickering. "We are not here to create enemies by throwing pointless words around like children. Our actions will prove everything we are because we do not engage in honorless backstabbing like you milk drinking cowards and fools."

A small smile crossed Tyrion's face as he saw Aela defuse the situation. _For all of their bluster, she certainly knows how to make people listen._ Before Pycelle could start trying to stir them up again, Tyrion was quick to interrupt the old man before he was able to open his mouth. "I believe it's time you moved on Grand Maester. I'd rather not spoil this day with talk of the seven hells and all manner of wickedness that will no doubt see most of King's Landing there when we die."

Pycelle grunted affirmatively and walked off. Veezara narrowed his eyes and watched the old man shuffle off, "You must be proud to be friends with a man whose balls brush his knees."

Tyrion chuckled. He'd have to use that line later. "Friends? I'd rather take the black and have the whores go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock than call him a friend of mine. No my good friend Veezara, the only reason I tolerate Pycelle is because he's protected by my dear sister, and unless I'm made Hand of the King, a job I'd rather not have I might add, there's nothing I can do save to annoy him from time to time. And if having you and your feline friend at my side does that, all the better."

"I like the way you think little lion." Aela acknowledged.

"Little lion?" Tyrion raised his eyebrows, "That term could be taken as a flirt." he added with a smirk.

"Don't get any ideas," Aela said firmly, "I'm only commenting on the fact that you're a Lannister Lion and on your small size."

Tyrion shrugged, "I've never gotten complaints about my size before."

Aela groaned at the sexual joke, "Be careful, Tyrion Lannister. I'm in no mood for flirting. Say another word and I'll break you in half. I could crush you if I wanted to."

Tyrion smiled as he looked her up and down at her exposed skin that showed from underneath her Companion armor, "And I'd enjoy every minute of it." Aela huffed in annoyance and stormed off, leaving Tyrion laughing and Veezara shaking his head.

"Are you this way with all ladies?" Veezara asked.

"Only the hard to get ones."

"I think you were starting to wear her down myself." Both men shared another laugh at Veezara's jest.

"You know, you and yours might be exactly what this rather dreary country needs." Tyrion said once he had regained some measure of his composure. "You bring so many new things to this land. Races unheard of before now, culture, new ideas. Really, everything about the people of Skyrim is new and quite intriguing."

"Too bad only you and a few others seem even remotely interested."

**The Red Keep.**

**The Main Hall.**

Veezara's statement was only half true, as Giselle was finding out for herself at the none too subtle looks from one Renly Baratheon. She doubted that his interest would have been swayed if she showed him the ring on her finger, which was concealed underneath her dragonplate gauntlet on her right hand. Varys had found them just as they left Jon Arryn's side, or rather, one of his little birds did, and they passed a message along that Stannis and Renly were in the main hall. True to his word, Giselle found them both, and was thankful when Stannis none to subtly slapped the back of his younger brother's head for his incessant flirting with her. "If you must act the damn fool, at least do so when I'm gone Renly." The hard faced soldier said at last, "Forgive my brother. He sometimes forgets his manners." He stood and bowed to Giselle, "I am Stannis of the House Baratheon. You've met my fool brothers."

"Indeed." Renly said, a note of annoyance in his tone before he turned back to the trio. "Still, I'm glad we finally found you. I imagine you didn't seek Stannis for his company. You'd be better off talking to a wall."

"I am right here you damned fool." Stannis grumbled, "how I'm related to you and Robert I'll never understand. One whores and drinks his life away while the other dresses up in fancy clothes and calls himself a prince."

"Peace, both of you." Giselle said softly, but they heard something behind her words that drew their attention immediately to her dark face. "I wanted to speak to you both, not just one over the other."

Just as Stannis prepared to question her motives, he was stopped when a side door opened. All eyes turned to the disturbance, and the Lord of the old Targaryen fortress of Dragonstone was taken aback by the sheer venom he saw in the dark skinned woman's gaze. Her opponent merely smirked and closed the distance between them, a swagger in her stride that made even the otherwise foolish Renly wonder what tricks she had up her sleeve. "I never thought I'd see that look on your haughty face _Lady Giselle Morgonnis._" Eldria Joroth mocked, her lips pulled up into a grin that chilled even Stannis's blood slightly. "What's the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost?"

"I saw your ship fall," Giselle said through her teeth.

"You saw our ship fall behind after you tried to sink us without provocation." Eldria countered, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared daggers at the dunmer across from her. She appeared, by all appearances, to be full of righteous indignation, but the illusion was slightly off from the gleam in her eyes. "My own people were lucky to escape the wrath of the Dragonborn and her barbaric people."

"I'll show you barbaric." Serana growled, and had to be restrained by Mjoll as her hand clamped down on the vampire's shoulder like a vise.

"What is the meaning of this?" Stannis asked, having taken a step back so he could see both contenders equally. "Do not try my patience by lying, knife ear." He said sharply to Eldria, who only waved her hand in an apologetic manner.

"I apologize, Ser Baratheon," Eldria said, sounding for all intents and purposes, innocent of any wrong doing, "But I hope you do not plan to ally yourself with this… monster. She almost sunk our ships on our way here."

"And the fact her people butcher entire families, just for the simple fact they worshipped Talos, one of our gods, has nothing to do with our hatred of the Thalmor." Mjoll rumbled as Serana shook her arm free of the woman's grasp.

"Or the fact that they tried to weaken all of Tamriel so that their Dominion could come in and sweep aside all resistance, imposing their will on all of us." Serana growled in turn as Eldria's smirk started to fade when it became clear both Baratheons were leaning towards their side.

"And let's not forget the fact that they held the Emperor at the tip of a sword, enforcing their ideas on the rest of us at the end of the last Great War when he signed the White-Gold Concordat."

Stannis glared at the Altmer, "Is this true?"

Eldria simply shrugged, "Perhaps, but I doubt you would believe the words of a suspected thief and a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Your version of the Faceless Men if I'm not mistaken. Thalmor intelligence also has it on good authority that she has associated with all sorts of people of ill repute, including a few rather unsavory Daedra. The term you're searching for is demons, gentlemen. And let's not forget the woman on her arm. She has a most peculiar appetite that might chill even your blood Lord Baratheon."

"You never answered my question woman." Stannis rumbled, but he filed away all that Eldria had said for future reference, while also keeping an eye on Giselle's face as each new charge was laid at her feet. Most of them she didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow. Only when Eldria made the idle remark about the raven haired woman next to her did she react as she took in a sharp breath through her teeth. That at least, was true, whatever cryptic meaning was to be found behind the Altmer's words.

Eldria pursed her lips and sighed since there was no point in hiding it now. "Yes, it is true. But in times of war, you do what needs to be done. I am sure you of all people would know what I mean. You look like you've seen your shares of battles. You know that sometimes, hard decisions need to be made. Those are the decisions we had to make."

"Tell that to the thousands of shattered families you left in your wake." Giselle growled, her dragon soul banging against the mental cage she had erected through her experiences thus far. She just needed an excuse, a valid reason to kill this smug bitch where she stood.

"Wars has its casualties, both guilty and innocent." Eldria said with a shrug. "You should know. I heard your mother died in an unfortunate accident at the bar she once worked in the Imperial Capital." That was the last straw as Giselle started to move and open her mouth, but Serana and Mjoll dragged her back, the vampire's hand clamped firmly over the dark elf's lips as she tried to fling herself at the Altmer. If not for the hand over her mouth, Giselle would have Shouted the Thalmor into the floor.

"This is what she wants Giselle!" Mjoll said as she continued to fight the dark elf for every bit of ground. If not for Serana, the fight would have been lost long before it started.

"Not here, not now Giselle." Serana fought the urge to gut the smug Atlmer herself, even as she tried to talk sense into the rage filled dunmer. When she finally stopped by jerking her arms free of her two friends and started away, only then did the vampire breathe a little easier. She kept herself between her and Eldria, just in case, but she turned her head over her shoulder and glared daggers at the woman. "I would hope we never meet in a dark alley, Thalmor. You might not like what you find waiting for you."

"You might not like my reply Serana Volkihar. Or is that blood sucking fiend, a monster that plays at being human? I always get those two confused." Eldria replied, her smirk firmly back on her lips as she casually waved at the departing trio. "Just as I said gentlemen, you would do well to avoid her."

"Wrong. I think we'd be fools to trust _either _of you." Renly stated, surprising Stannis and Eldria both with the venom in his words, a strange thing given his normally cheery disposition. "I don't know what happened in the past, but if half of what either of you said was true, then the Stormlands won't get involved in either side until I can determine which one is the more trustworthy. Personally brother, you'd probably be better off following my example."

"As shocking as it is for me to agree with anything you propose Renly, I have to agree with you," Stannis rumbled in turn before both men left the main hall.

If they had stuck around for a few minutes longer, they would have heard the distinctive sound of someone clapping. Eldria turned and grinned as Lord Petyr Baelish made himself known by stepping out from behind one of the ornate stone pillars that lined the hall. "That was quite the performance Lady Joroth."

Eldria bowed at Petyr's praise, her grin quite evident now that she was alone with her favorite southerner. "It went about as well as I hoped it would. I might have lost my chance to ally myself with Stannis or Renly Baratheon as well, but I at least drove them away from Morgonnis and her motley crew."

"I don't doubt now that word will soon reach the rest of King's Landing about this little… escapade. I am sure that if word gets out, everyone will think twice before allying themselves with Lady Morgonnis. Her reputation will suffer, that is for certain."

"The only problem is that she's too entrenched in the North for it to make much difference, and I doubt I could sway Tyrion Lannister away from her even if I tried." Eldria shrugged though, since her part was done for the moment.

"Patience, Lady Joroth. The North is not nearly as strong as the South. And they aren't as safe in their lands as they think, not with the Greyjoys within arm's length of their borders, and not with old resentments just waiting to be used in a future rebellion against them. You've done more than you might realize." Petyr said as he put his arm around the Altmer's shoulders, the smirk on his face matched only by the gleam in his eyes. "Your revenge will come in time my dear Eldria."

If it were possible, Petyr's grin grew even wider when he saw the look on the elven woman's face. "I don't want _just _revenge. I want to see her so humiliated and friendless that she begs for a quick death. But in the meantime, you could treat me to another fine… 'dinner' in one of your elegant if debaucherous establishments."

Petyr gave a sly smile, "Done."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Eldria stated as she wriggled free of the man's arm on her shoulders. "There's nothing like the sweet taste of victory to put me in a good mood."

"You and half of King's Landing would agree." Petyr chuckled as he led the way.

**Back at that inn.**

**That night.**

"Pack up, we're leaving, now." Giselle said the moment the door banged open, having all but slammed into it in her hurry to gather her few friends and get out of King's Landing.

"We can't leave Giselle, not with that Thalmor poisoning everything we've tried to build." Serana was quick to point out as she kept pace with the furious dunmer. Mjoll followed, breathless from the long run back to the inn, while the dark elf and the vampire seemed barely winded between them.

Giselle stopped and rounded on Serana, her brown eyes alight with a fury that she hadn't seen often. "That piece of horker shit knew exactly what to say to make me look like the monster she painted me out to be, and I let her push me Serana. We can't stay, because if we do, you won't be able to stop me again as I rip out her black heart with my bare hands in full view of that court of fools. If I do that, then it won't matter because I'll have proved her right."

"So we give up, is that what you're saying Giselle?!" Serana shouted, just as the dunmer stopped halfway up the stairs to their rooms.

"Even I have to choose my battles carefully, my love." She said at last, her head hung low. That action alone brought Serana up short as the door to their room slammed shut behind her.

"What did we miss?" Farkas asked, a rare look of concern etched on his face at the recent turn of events. He was ignored as Serana brushed by him and ran to the stairs without a word. "Um….can someone explain to me what happened and what's going on?"

Serana found Giselle throwing her gauntlets into the chest they had brought with them, perched on the edge of their bed. Without a word, the vampire stopped and knelt in front of the defeated dunmer, and looked up into her downcast eyes. "How long has it been since you've prayed to their ghosts Giselle?"

"Too long….because it hurts too damn much."

"A fact she exploited." Serana threw her hands in the air in exasperation as she started to pace the length of the room. "Gods Giselle, how long has it been since they were…."

"Since they were murdered by the Thalmor? Is that what you're trying to ask?" She looked away before she said something that would have hurt Serana far more than any dagger could have managed. "Over a century….but it might as well have been just the other day. Being with you, with Lucia, living a life I know they'd be proud of, it keeps the pain at bay….but it's there, just waiting for someone to open up the wound all over again."

Slowly standing to her feet, Serana sat down next to her and gently pulled Giselle to her side. "I wish I could have met them….the few times you've talked about them….it made me envious of the happiness you had while my family went to Oblivion."

"At least you had yours, as psychotic as they were. Well….Harkon anyway. Your mother wasn't so bad once I got past that frosty demeanor."

"I think she would've liked you once she got to know you better. Then again, maybe I'm being too optimistic." After a short pause, Serana let her hand, that had been at Giselle's armored back, to go the back of her neck before she let her fingers entangle themselves in her silver gray hair. "But my point is that so long as you let it fester, people like her will always hold power over you Giselle, and it wouldn't surprise me if she's spreading her filth in every ear willing to listen."

Giselle digested this for a moment, "What do you suggest I do then?"

Serana paused, "Play the Game. And stop thinking it was your fault for their deaths, that you could have done something to prevent it. If you had, I wouldn't have ever met you. I wouldn't have fallen in love with you."

"Easy for you to say." Despite her words, Giselle was able to offer the vampire a watery smile as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know you're right….on both counts, but it's not that easy."

"I'd be disappointed if it were Giselle. You loved them, they loved you, and even if it was something I never had, I get that it won't be easy for you to let it go. Truthfully, I should have tried to help you through this months ago…."

"No, you had your own issues Serana. I'm just happy you're here with me." Giselle sighed and closed her eyes as Serana ran her fingers through the fine locks. "Alright….we'll stay for a few more days, and try to beat that piece of shit at her own game. But if she brings up my parents again, all bets are off."

Serana nodded her head and let the tension in the room bleed out for a few seconds before asking, "What's our first move?"

Giselle sighed again and shrugged, "For now, we'll see who in the south likes us more than her. If we can get more allies, fine, but if not, hopefully we can at least turn some of her own friends away from her since we have the truth on our side."

"Truth without proof, but we have a lot of people that will say the same thing. What else?" Serana asked, her mind furiously at work as she went through the list of people back in the Rills that had a personal axe to grind against the Thalmor. The list was quite extensive.

"As much as I want to see her killed, I can't send Veezara after her." Giselle said through clenched teeth, obviously frustrated that she could not kill the Thalmor woman. "She dies, and we're back at square one since it will look like we silenced her, thus validating whatever lies she's told. What we need to know is how many Thalmor are left if nothing else before we leave King's Landing, and where they are. From there, we could plan our next moves, and hopefully get rid of them from Westeros, before they become too strong. That at least, Veezara can handle on his own."

"In the meantime, we do damage control." Serana stated, earning her a nod from Giselle as she sat up and stared into her glowing orbs. "That shouldn't be too hard."

Giselle had to admire Serana's optimism, even if she didn't share in it. Even so, she nodded her head before saying, "Tyrion would be a good place to start. He might not be the most respected among the Lannisters, but he's the one I'd trust the most. Tywin, Cersei, and Jamie are to be avoided at all costs."

"And what of Petyr Baelish?" Serana asked, having a feeling she wasn't going to like Giselle's answer.

Giselle grimaced at the name, uncertain as to what she wanted to do with him. "I don't know if he's on our side or working his own angle. So far, he's done nothing to make me truly distrust him, but I know he likely would sell us out if the gain was good enough. As for Varys, he's just as sly, if not more so, and while he looks harmless, something about him just isn't right. He knows far too much of what goes on in Westeros. I'd accuse him of some kind of sorcery, except I haven't seen a single mage since coming here."

Serana shuddered involuntarily at the reminder of Varys's seemingly infinite knowledge in regards to what went in around him. "Not ones that stand out like J'zargo anyway."

Giselle offered a weak smile before she reluctantly pulled away from Serana's fingers in her hair. "Thank you….for everything Serana. I know I've said it before, but it doesn't make it any less true."

"It's alright, and I don't get tired of hearing it." Serana chuckled low in her throat before starting for the door.

"Serana." The vampire stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Find out who that woman was while you're at it. I can't be trusted around her, but you and the others can. Make it clear that they aren't to kill her….yet. Beyond that, I want to know everything about her as well. Who her friends are, who hates her about as much as I do, anything we can use."

"I'll handle it. I'll be back soon, I promise." Giselle watched her go, and Serana almost turned around and went back to the woman's side when she saw the shaken look in her brown eyes start to creep back. Instead, she turned and saw Mjoll and most of their allies standing just outside their door, assembled on the second floor balcony that overlooked the main room. "Delphine, Mjoll, don't let her out of your sight. Aela, find J'zargo. When you do, meet me at the main door of the inn. We need to start making friends. Veezara, I have a task for you. Her orders."

"I'll do what I can." The assassin promised as Serana laid out what had happened in the main hall and what they were going to do about it. When she was done, everyone understood that their stay in King's Landing had just gotten a lot more interesting. "She won't know I'm there, once I find her." Veezara said and promptly disappeared from sight.

As much as she wanted Vilkas instead of Farkas around, Serana had faith that the blunt Companion wouldn't let her down as she sent him and Delphine to talk to Lord Jon Arryn and anyone else willing to listen to them while she, Aela, and J'zargo went in search of Tyrion and their own allies. She had made it painfully clear that despite Giselle's thoughts on Petyr, they weren't to go near him or any of the other Lannisters.

While all this was going on, Giselle had undressed and changed into a simple tunic and pants before curling up into bed, alone. While a part of her wanted nothing more than to go out and hunt the Thalmor woman down, the rest of her protested against such a reckless action. Even if she had known where she was, chances were she'd be well guarded, and by the time she cleared a path, the Thalmor agent would have either run off to tell the King some story about being attacked without warning, or she'd simply disappear and return with more of her fellows and hit the Rills in retaliation. Both scenarios were unacceptable in any case, so she stared up at the ceiling and tried to take comfort in Serana's efforts. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it would be her. And if not, there was always Plan B.

_End Notes; __**Vergil1989**__; Well, that got a lot more interesting than I had anticipated. The ending underwent a couple of changes, but I eventually settled on a more neutral path, for the moment. I had wanted to have Giselle go rogue and try and find Eldria, before slitting her throat, but I realized there were a couple problems with that idea. The biggest being Eldria would find a way to either A, slip through her fingers and drag the Dragonborn's reputation through the mud, or B, she'd have a trap laid out for Giselle or some of her friends, and still drag her down. This way at least, has things shaping up for an eventual confrontation, but whether or not it ends in their favor is still in the air. This is Game of Thrones after all. 'Evil grin.' At any rate, enjoy folks, and leave those wonderful reviews._

_Before I forget, I owe __**Doctor Eagle**_ _quite a bit of thanks for this one. I was banging my head against the wall on this one, but he got me in the right direction. Anyway, may the Nine bless your path strangers. D_

_**Doctor Eagle**__: It's been awesome working with __**Vergil1989 **__as we go back and forth co-writing this story and my own. I really like how this story is shaping up and hope more awesome stuff happens. But as Vergil said, this is Game of Thrones…. Mwhahahahaa…._


	9. Heed Our Voice

_Opening Notes; __**Vergil1989**__; I have to thank a certain reviewer who left a couple of noteworthy thoughts behind. While his idea was too blatant, too much of a danger to innocent bystanders, the idea itself was sound to an extent. So thank you, whoever you are since you come up as a Guest. Oh well. D Also, thanks goes out to a couple of new reviewers, mainly __**thepkrmgc **__and __**Lord Kagrenac II**__. Thanks and hope you and everyone else who's faved and followed enjoys this next chapter!_

**(For added effect, play, well almost any somber tune from Game of Thrones.)**

Giselle's sleep wasn't easy, but considering the day's events, she wasn't that surprised when she woke up that morning, covered in sweat and stinking of her own fear and guilt of memories long buried, but never forgotten. She had dreamt of the worst couple of days of her life, the days her father and mother were killed by the Thalmor. While she knew Serana was right, that she had been far too young and too powerless to do anything, it didn't stop the dunmer from feeling guilty about it anyway as she 'saw' the whole thing play out behind her eyelids as if it were happening all over again.

If not for one of her grandmother's old friends, who had sworn to protect Giselle long ago and keep her out of Thalmor hands for as long as they could, she would have rushed the execution block that her father and several others had been lined up in front of days after the mine collapsed. Even before the Great War had finally broken out, the Thalmor had started to trickle into every corner of Tamriel, and had begun their work in inciting the masses in every corner of the continent. A timely assassination here, discontent sown there, certain individuals foolishly loyal to the haughty elven folk raised to important positions. So many seemingly unrelated events had taken place in the last century or so, but only a few caught onto the scheme. They had had a habit of disappearing without a trace, much like her grandmother had while she had been a young girl, barely off of her mother's breast.

So there she had watched, with her grandmother's friend holding her back even as she struggled and cried, right up until the axe came down. Then, not even three days later, she and everyone within a block radius of the bar and inn were woken up by the screams of the dying as the building was burned down. The 'official' report had said that a candle had been knocked over, and no one had smelled the smoke or seen the flames until the fire had gotten out of control. Not even magic had been enough to subdue it, but everyone suspected Thalmor involvement since Giselle's mother had been very outspoken about them, and had become even more so when her husband was killed for the accident at the mine that had claimed a few of the Thalmor along with several of the Empire's own.

And two, a Thalmor Justicar, one of their best and deadliest soldiers from the Summerset Isles, had rode into town a day before the 'accidental' blaze. While there was no hard evidence to suggest anything more than a case of bad luck, everyone whispered that the Justicar had been the one that had set the blaze.

Even now, Giselle could still hear the screams, as well as smell the smoke and burnt flesh, a hundred years later. It was something no amount of time could ever erase, and Eldria had known about it all, of that Giselle was certain of as she stared out of the window, unable to get back to sleep as the sun started to rise over the horizon. Seeing no point in trying anyway, the dunmer freshened up, having seen that Serana hadn't come back last night. She hoped she was alright, but until she heard otherwise, Giselle was determined to get a hot meal and maybe a hearty mug of mead, in the hopes of at least dulling her old memories if nothing else.

Once she had washed and dressed, going for another simple outfit rather than anything fancy or made of dragon bone, like she had yesterday, Giselle found Mjoll asleep on her feet, her back against the wall. She chuckled and nudged the woman, and took a step back when she drew her sword and swung in surprise before she regained her senses. "Don't do that, ya darned elf."

"Sorry Mjoll." Giselle chuckled, her dark mood forgotten for the moment as she saw the annoyance on the Lioness's face. "You made it too easy though, standing here, looking all imposing, when in reality, you were dead on your feet." She chuckled even as Mjoll muttered a series of curses before stomping off, leaving Giselle to go downstairs to the main dining area alone.

A quick scan of the room told her that either everyone was gone, or they were still in their beds, where she wanted to be with Serana. Still, she sighed and waved down a serving woman and was soon given a steaming plate of bacon, eggs, and a couple of smoked salmon, as well as a glass of summer wine. She didn't like the drink, but it did what she required of it for the moment, feeling slightly better when the drink hit her belly, filling her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the already warm weather outside.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting." Giselle about spat out her drink when someone sat next to her, dressed in old leathers and smelling horrendously of the slums. But one look at his face, covered in a beard that hadn't been there yesterday, as well as dirt streaks and smudges, and Giselle knew who she had startled her. Seeing the recognition in her brown eyes, Lord Varys nodded his head and sat down next to the dunmer. "Your observational skills are matched only by your unwillingness to get involved with the politics that are the center of our realm. Or at least, it was, until you ran into Lady Eldria Joroth yesterday."

She filed the name away, on the off chance Veezara hadn't found anything they could use against the Thalmor woman. "Why are you here Lord Varys?" Giselle asked point blank, hoping to avoid the dancing around that almost everyone in King's Landing seemed so fond of.

"Only to tell you that despite your turning a few of my own 'birds' against me, that I admire your abilities. You are not the enemy Lady Joroth has tried to present you as. For those with eyes to see, you are the safer of two evils, and from what I have been able to gather about the Thalmor woman, she is no friend to Westeros." Varys answered simply, but before she could ask for more, he beat her to the punch. "I admit, that you intrigue me, and for someone with so many songs being sung to him, that is a rare thing."

He made it unclear whether or not he thought of her as a friend or another potential enemy. Regardless, she supposed it didn't matter as she tried to gain a measure of the man underneath his fake beard and rugged, road weary appearance, and found to her disappointment, that he was as unreadable as a stone wall. At last she said, "You didn't come down here to sing my praises, dressed like that. So why? What are you here for?"

Varys's eyes seemed to twinkle as he nodded his head, and seemed glad that they had gotten to the heart of his visit so quickly. The fact she had already tried to get to that very same topic seemed to have flown the eunuch's mind. "You are no doubt curious as to the success of your friends' attempts to gain allies and assess our mutual enemy, Eldria Joroth. I can safely assure you that overall, they were successful on both missions. While Lord Stannis did not wish to meet with your people after yesterday's performance, Lord Renly relented and has thrown in with you. I believe Lady Volkihar had something to do with it, saying something about if not him, then she'd turn to Stannis and tell him that they were of the same mind still. He did not seem too pleased by the idea."

"Gotta love sibling rivalries." Giselle muttered darkly, finding it a petty insult that Renly had only joined their side because he didn't want to agree with Stannis on anything for any length of time. Still, it was more than she had gotten herself yesterday.

Varys continued, having either missed her comment, or he had ignored it. "Lord Jon Arryn was already leaning towards your banner, but another visit from your allies has cemented a mutual arrangement I imagine he will wish to talk to you personally about before your time here is concluded. The price might be more than you could bear however."

"What do you mean?" She had a feeling she wasn't going to like this.

"He has heard that you have a daughter, and he has expressed an interest in taking her under his wing, as he did Lord Eddard Stark and our Grace, King Robert Baratheon. I suspect he wishes for his own son, Lord Robin of the Vale, to have someone close to his own age, so that he might learn a strength he lacks at present, but I also suspect that the Hand wishes to learn more about your ways, Lady Morgonnis."

"And what does his wife have to say about this?" While it wasn't a bad arrangement, like Cersei, she was unwilling to let Lucia go without a fight. Even if she hadn't been around as much as she should have been, Giselle still loved and treasured the Nord girl regardless, and most of what she had done had been for her sake. Ending the war had been far easier when she had had someone other than herself to fight for. And while destroying Alduin had been a necessary thing regardless, having Lucia to come back to had made the dunmer fight all the harder. She hadn't been about to leave her orphaned twice.

And now someone was _asking _to take her away? Giselle sighed and shook her head, deciding to at least hear Jon out before she decided one way or the other. Varys had thankfully waited for her to come to some silent decision before he continued speaking. "Lysa Arryn might be a fragile minded woman, but she will yield to her husband in this matter at least since she will still be able to keep her son close. The only difference being is she'll have to contend with your girl, Lucia." He nodded his head, as if confirming a thought of his own, before Varys said, "You care for her like any true mother who has born a child of their flesh. In Jon Arryn's care, she will be well taken care of. He is truly as good and well loved as you've heard. Out of all of the Lords and Ladies of King's Landing, he is the one you can trust without question."

"He's the one I can trust, but not his wife." Giselle was quick to point out, and again Varys nodded his head. She blew out a breath and sighed again, hating this dance but knowing that it was a necessary evil. "If you see him before I do, which is likely, tell him I'll consider his offer, but that I don't like it."

"I'll express you have concerns for the well being of your daughter, and I'll suspect he'll listen and try to make the transition as smooth as possible. But you really are making a wise decision Lady Morgonnis. Fostering to such an honored and noble a House as the Arryns will benefit both parties. And with the Hand in King's Landing, you needn't travel as far or contend with the Bloody Gate guards anytime you wish to see her."

"No, I'll just have to contend with everyone else that wants a piece of me." Giselle shot back before she finished off the salmon that was in front of her before jabbing her fork into what was left of her bacon and eggs.

Again, Varys ignored the vehement gesture. "Perhaps, but here you know who your enemies are."

"Do I?" Giselle asked, having looked up into Varys's round face. "Everyone, with the exception of perhaps Jon Arryn, has been trying to find some way to weasel their way into my lands. And now even he wants to take the only thing that really matters to me anymore. So _do _I know who my enemies are?" It was a bad move on her part, losing what calm she had left, but she was beyond caring at that moment.

Varys merely held up a hand and offered her a conciliatory look. It was something she hadn't expected, and it threw her off slightly as she took a deep breath and waited for the spymaster to speak his piece. She didn't have long to wait. "Thus far, you have identified every Lord and Lady that is no friend to House Dovahkiin, with the exception of Petyr Baelish, but even he you have shown caution in not promising him anything beyond a simple favor for what aid he has provided you already. Normally I'd have advised to stay away from Tyrion Lannister, but he seems quite taken by you and your companions, enough so that I think given time, he might reconsider his loyalties to his family. For now, I'd caution you to keep him at arm's length if nothing else, but what you do with my advice is yours to decide. But as for Lady Joroth, you might find it surprising to learn that she is good friends with our Master of Coin."

The words hit Giselle like a hammer to the stomach, but the blow was softened somewhat since she had suspected his friendship was too easily gained. Even so, the fact Eldria, a Thalmor of the Altmer race, was making friends with anyone not her own species was astonishing in its own right. That said quite a bit of Petyr's abilities in charming anyone to his side, given enough time, and it proved just how cunning he was if he had been able to make an ally of the Thalmor of all people. Altmer by themselves weren't the problem. It was the Thalmor, direct representatives from the Summerset Isles, that worked for the Third Aldmeri Dominion, that were the root of most of Tamriel's issues. They were elven supremacists to a man, and wanted to unify the realm under their banner, taking every position of power for themselves. People like Eldria and Elenwen gave the rest of the Altmer a bad name.

At last, Giselle turned to Varys and again tried to figure out why he was helping her, and asked as much when his neutral expression held up under her intense gaze. If anything, he seemed to find her continued probing to be amusing. "Why help you over the other? Because I know people, I make it my business to know the comings and goings of everyone of note. Since your arrival to our shores, reasons I am still trying to unravel, you have gone out of your way not to draw unwanted attention to yourselves. Only when you were provoked into action did you come here, an event precipitated by your discovery of one of my birds. Thus, you presented yourself to the King, and made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with the Throne so long as those in power did nothing to anger you. Some would consider that a threat, but I saw it for what it was. A simple request to be left alone, to grow and prosper as a people, and thus your hunt for allies began. But you are no fool. You've been gathering information, just as I've been gathering information for most of my life. I stand in service to the realm, and I get the impression our interests are not so different."

"You might be more right than you know." Giselle said, revealing that Varys was on the right track, but she didn't say more than that. There was something he had yet to say, but she knew to be true anyway. Information was power, and Varys was one of the most powerful in that regard, if not _the _most powerful.

"I normally am." Varys stated with another nod of his head before he stood to his feet. "Given recent events Lady Morgonnis, all of us might be more open minded than you believe. It is not every day legends come to life, and walk among the people like giants. If you truly are here for the safety and continued well being of the realm, then you might find an unexpected friend. But when we meet again in court, feel free to treat me with the same discourtesy as most everyone does. It is safer for both of us that way."

"I shall." Giselle said, nodding her own head and stood to her feet just as Varys started towards the door. "Thank you, for what you've shared with me." The spymaster merely smiled that strange, amused smile and disappeared out onto the streets without a word, the door shutting behind him with an almost silent bang. Turning back to her meal, Giselle was left to wonder about everything Varys had told her.

With a sigh after finishing her meal, Giselle went back upstairs and decided she had stood around, feeling sorry for herself for too long as it was, and changed into something more appropriate for a day of mingling among the royalty. Changing into a finely crafted dress from Radiant Raiment, a clothing store that served the nobility in Solitude, Giselle made it a point to loop a dagger belt around her waist, just in case, before slipping a pair of dragon bone daggers into the respective sheaths before heading out of the inn. The last thing she wanted was to get caught with her pants down.

**The Red Keep**

**Later that morning.**

Unlike the other day, the guards let Giselle past to see Lord Jon Arryn when she came calling, even though they gave her a couple of furtive glances when they saw her dagger belt. She shrugged when one of them asked her to hand it over, and started to undo the belt when Jon's voice reached their ears. "It's alright Egen. Let her pass." Ser Vardis Egen opened the door and gave the man a brief look that said he didn't like this idea, but she didn't let him reconsider letting her through as she pushed past the heavily armored knight without a word. Egen only had a chance to open his mouth before the door shut in his face, leaving Egen and his partner to scratch their heads. "You enjoy causing a scene wherever you go." Jon commented as he stood from his table, an amused smile on his face as he met Giselle's brown eyes.

"I like making an entrance." Giselle retorted, her earlier bad mood forgotten as she shot a smirk towards the Hand of the King as he pulled a chair out for her. The dunmer raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but didn't question it as she sat down, noticing the spread on the table.

"Did you have breakfast already Lady Morgonnis?" Jon asked, and when Giselle nodded, he grimaced slightly, no doubt wondering if she'd consider it rude if he continued eating in front of her. She merely shrugged at his unspoken concern, and relaxed visibly. What he had to ask her would be hard enough without putting her in a foul mood before they even started talking.

It was a rare day when Jon was put on his guard so easily. "I had a surprise visit this morning from someone that's very well informed. He told me what you wanted to talk about Lord Arryn."

"Varys." Jon said the word like a curse, a sentiment that she shared, or she made the appearances of such, per the man's request. While she didn't like him, she didn't hate him either, unlike the Lord of the Vale seemed to. "You'd be wise to avoid him whenever possible." Jon said at last, bringing to mind all of the foul rumors she had heard about him since coming to King's Landing. "But yes, I had hoped to talk to you about the arrangement some of your allies brought to my attention. The head of your Dragonguard, Delphine, and the Companion, Farkas, are quite a notable pair."

"You have no idea." Giselle said as a small smirk appeared on her lips. "They're good people though, there are few others I'd rather have at my back." And there wasn't since Farkas was one of the best Shield Brothers, next to his brother, that she had ever fought beside, and Delphine was even better when it came to hunting down dragons, the Blades' sworn enemies in the distant past of their order.

"I got that impression. You strike me as a woman that lets her actions speak for her, but you've shown an aptitude for political intrigue despite your reluctance to get involved. Normally I'd be wary of such a combination, until I heard of your confrontation with Eldria Joroth." Jon didn't flinch when he saw how Giselle's hands tightened involuntarily at the mere mention of the stranger's name. "She appeared a month before you did, and seemed content to simply make a few allies and garner support for her people. It wasn't until rumors started filtering about your journey to the capital, that she started to make herself known more publicly. Let me be frank and say that I never trusted her, even though she had never given me a reason to distrust her personally. Something in her eyes reminded me far too much of our last tyrannical ruler."

"The Mad King Aerys II, of the House Targaryen." Giselle intoned, her words earning her a somber nod from the Lord of the Vale. "Then let _me _be frank and tell you that your mistrust is well founded."

"Delphine and Farkas said as much yesterday evening. That the Thalmor, a sort of sub race amongst the Altmer, are elven supremacists, that they see their way as the only way, and that they are willing to do whatever they see fit that their rule is absolute. I admit, such things are beyond me, since I did not grow up with the likes of elves and magic and everything else she tried to explain, but perhaps you can do better. But as Hand of the King, if this Eldria Joroth is as dangerous as your Captain of your Guard made her out to be, then I need to know what you know of the Thalmor and the woman that leads them."

"I'll tell you what I can Lord Arryn, but are you sure you want to hear it so soon after eating your breakfast?" The humor had long since fled by that point, and Giselle's question only added to the tension despite the fact Jon had witnessed his share of atrocities. "The Lannisters might repay their debts, but the Thalmor don't give people a chance to collect on petty insults. They simply make innocent bystanders disappear or they arrange 'accidents'. They are as subtle as they are deadly, trust me, I have my share of scars from their blades both physically and otherwise." Jon merely nodded his head while his guest went into great detail of their crimes to the whole of her home country. She explained what she could of their history, the fighting they had incited among the Empire's citizens, the civil war they had started in Skyrim, and why she believed they wanted to eliminate Talos worship everywhere they found it. "The man that became a god. That kind of powerful symbol, regardless if it truly happened or not, is one that says anything is possible. Take away that simple belief, and you take away a person's ability to fight against all odds. Talos represents the impossible made possible."

"And if the Thalmor are as cunning and intelligent as you say, it would make sense that they'd want to strip away the very essence of resistance if they ever took control." Jon said, his keen observation having been dead on in the dunmer's opinion. What Talos symbolized was what the Thalmor wanted to take away, not so much the god himself, something that Jon understood thanks to Giselle's explanation. While he didn't understand the people of Tamriel's traditions or beliefs, he understood the power such a symbol potentially contained, and wondered what Eldira thought of their own Seven, and wondered which one she'd go after if given the chance to cripple Westeros in much the same way. It was a thought he didn't want to consider. "While your gods are foreign to me, I understand that our Seven faces of god aren't so unlike your Nine Divines. With that in mind, again, if Eldria truly is as dangerous as you claim, and she intends to take the Seven Kingdoms for herself, then we need to start thinking of ways to prevent that from happening."

"I realize it's a lot to take in Lord Arryn, but the Thalmor have done this before. They are incredibly patient because they are like all elven kind in that they are long lived. If one plan doesn't pan out, they can adapt and go a different route for the same desired result. I'm of elven kind, so the long game is something I'm familiar with."

"But at least with you, I don't have to worry about finding my home in flames." Giselle could only nod at Jon's words, hoping ten years down the line, it would still hold true. She didn't get a chance to dwell as he met her gaze with renewed intensity, drawing her brown orbs to his hazel depths. It was a strange experience, since it was she that normally drew and held people's eyes rather than the other way around. "Which brings me to why I wished to talk to you."

"You want to foster my daughter, Lucia of Whiterun."

"Yes. Rest assured, I have a child of my own, Lady Morgonnis, a boy that I love dearly. If you were to agree to the arrangement, she would be treated as if she were one of my own. Your friend, Lord Eddard Stark, was also fostered among the Arryns, and I treated him and Robert both like the sons I didn't have at the time. While I cannot speak for Lysa, what she might think of this, there are rules that govern this kind of arrangement. No harm is ever allowed to befall a child given in this fashion, for fear of rightful retaliation by the House that lost their son or daughter in some manner while under the protection of another family. Realize that we would be in charge in trying to educate her in our ways, our customs, and if she is willing, Lucia can tell us a little of your own. I and I hope, my son, will listen and heed whatever wisdom might be found from your shared homeland."

Giselle was quiet for the longest time as she pondered this latest turn. Jon Arryn was sincere in his desire to foster good relations between them, but what he didn't say was that if something were to happen to him, that Lucia would be in the hands of Lady Lysa Arryn, a woman she had yet to meet. That alone made her nervous, and then there was Lucia's feelings to consider as well. "While I am...reluctant to agree to anything of this magnitude, I can see that you want what is best for all sides. You I would trust to treat her well, to do as you promise and perhaps even send her back to my arms stronger and wiser than she might have been otherwise. But I can't decide for her, Lord Arryn."

"I understand, truly I do. And I'd be disappointed if you agreed here and now." Jon's somber look disappeared as he read in Giselle's face the love and pride she felt for the girl they were discussing. "She might not be born of your womb, Lady Morgonnis, but you love her all the same. I heard a bit of your conversation with the Queen when we were in the Small Council meeting. She made it clear she found it distasteful that you saved a child off the streets and let her into your home, while I found it beyond admirable. Talk to Lucia when you return to the Rills, my promise to protect and guide her, to teach her of our ways will be on the table for as long as you are willing to consider it."

"Thank you, truly." Giselle replied, honestly torn between refusing him out of hand because she didn't want to let Lucia go for any length of time, and hoping she would refuse for the same reason. But there was a great deal to be gained as well, since no one would dare harm a hair on Lucia's head, so long as Jon remained as Hand of the King. While she didn't like the idea of leaving her so close to Cersei and the rest of the court of fools that served the King, it would do her some good to learn of Westeros right from the source. And, if Lucia turned out just half as well as Eddard did, all the better. "I will consider your proposal Lord Arryn, but if she says no, I won't force her to go anywhere. I love her too much to do that to her."

"Again, I understand. For now, House Dovahkiin is a friend of the Vale. Your enemies are my enemies, your friends, my friends. This I swear as Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, under the light of the Seven. Go in peace, Lady Morgonnis."

"May the Nine bless your path as well, Lord Jon Arryn." While she didn't believe in the Nine, it was still a heartfelt farewell Just as she reached for the door, Jon stood from the small table, and quickly crossed the room.

His question caught her by surprise since it was one that she hadn't personally considered, despite what her friends had said to Tyrion the other day. "I almost forgot to ask, but have you considered a motto for your new House, Lady Morgonnis?"

"With everything that's been going on lately, no I hadn't. Why?" She asked, genuinely puzzled for once in a long while.

Jon nodded his head, having expected as much as he folded his hands behind his back, "Then let me ask you another question. Do you know what House Arryn's is?"

"'As High As Honor.'" Giselle said without a second of thought. "From what I've heard of your history, it's well earned."

"Indeed. But the point being, every great House has a motto, words that can inspire or terrorize those that hear them. Words can hold great power, as I think you well know." He had no idea just how right he was given her ability to turn her very voice into a weapon. That thought led to another, and Giselle's brown eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own as she considered Jon's question.

When she spoke again, Jon found her answer strangely fitting. "'Heed Our Voice.' While you might not understand it now, I hope in the coming days that it'll come to mean we are a peaceful, wise people that try to talk our problems out first and foremost. But when it comes time for blades to be sharpened and the war horns to sound, that our enemies will fear us when we raise our voices in song, telling of victorious battles long past."

"I will make a note of it Lady Morgonnis. Again, may the light of the Seven shine down upon you and yours." With that, he saw Giselle out, his mind a whirl of the days to come. He just hoped he lived long enough to see them grow to be powerful friends.

Giselle meanwhile left the Tower of the Hand, in unusually high spirits despite how her morning had started. Even when she saw Cersei Lannister coming up the stairs, no doubt to speak to Jon Arryn, the dunmer gave the Queen a smile and went on her way without a look back. The fact she could feel the woman's eyes on her back was only a bonus. Giselle stopped though when she saw Serana waiting for her at the bottom of the stairwell, talking to Tyrion Lannister. Despite their odd friendship, something about the way the vampire looked uneasy made Giselle nervous, and it didn't take her long to realize why.

"For a corpse, you look to be in quite the remarkable shape Lady Volkihar." That brought Giselle up short, as surely as if Alduin had landed in front of her despite having sent his black soul to some forgotten plane of Oblivion.

"How did you figure it out?" Serana asked, noting Giselle's presence without taking her glowing eyes off of the halfman.

Tyrion scoffed and folded his arms over his chest before holding up a hand. "Shall I go through the list?" He asked, before he started counting, raising a finger for each point he made, "Your skin is unnaturally pale, you're quite cold to the touch, and save for when you talk, you don't breathe, and your eyes glow quite strangely. But I admit, there's an unusual allure to be had in your gaze m'lady."

"What do you plan to do with this information?" Giselle couldn't blame Serana's wariness in the slightest as the vampire asked what Tyrion planned to do now that he knew there was something unusual about her.

If the Lannister was surprised by her suspicion, he didn't show it as he let his hands fall to his side before cocking his head at an angle to regard the woman with open interest. "Me? Nothing at all my dear. I only wish to understand how this came about. How does one go from breathing to...whatever you are?"

"That's a story you might not like." And from the tone in her voice and the set of her face, Serana made it clear it was one she didn't like to talk about.

"I'm getting the impression it wasn't a pleasant experience." Tyrion stated solemnly, having gotten the message loud and clear, much to the duo's relief.

But Serana couldn't leave it at that, and with Giselle's silent prompting, she was able to divulge some of what had happened. "It wasn't. What it did to me, to my family, it drove my father to madness and forced my mother to flee. I…._we_ had to kill him before he did something that couldn't be undone."

"I'm sorry it came to that." Tyrion replied, and it was the most sincere either of them had heard him to date. "Perhaps I have touched on a topic best left alone. I will trouble you no more on the matter."

Before he got two steps, Giselle put a hand on his shoulder while Serana offered him a small, grateful smile for his apology. "It's quite alright Lord Tyrion. While it still pains me, it's a part of my past now, and to be honest, I'm glad it's over." Serana surprised them both when she knelt next to the halfman and held out her hand to him, one arm draped across her right knee. "You're merely curious, which is hardly a crime, I see that now, but if you really want to know the whole story, I'd appreciate if we talked of such things behind closed doors."

"Of course." Tyrion replied without a second though as he took her offered hand and squeezed it firmly between his own. "And on that note, I believe I've taken up enough of your time." He said with a cheery wave before waddling away.

Giselle watched him warily. "Are you sure you're comfortable with him knowing your secret?"

"I'm far more comfortable with _him _knowing than the rest of his family. Besides, Tyrion's a good man once you get past his brazen wit and his sarcastic veneer. He won't turn on us lightly." Serana replied, before turning her gaze on the dunmer, and couldn't help but smirk at the smile she found there. "Had a good morning I take it?"

"Other than you weren't there, I did. But let's not talk of it here." Giselle motioned with an open hand for Serana to follow her back to the inn, "We need to find the others as soon as possible. Then we need to talk. I've learned quite a bit, and a lot of it I'd rather discuss behind closed doors. I will say this much, we were right not to trust Baelish."

"You know then." At Giselle's puzzled glare, Serana handed the dunmer a letter. "Veezara found her, and stole this right off of her desk. She's in with Petyr Baelish. Apparently they've been trading potions and other goods for food and building materials and manpower until they can do so themselves. As to where the Thalmor have set up, that we don't know yet."

"Where's Veezara now?" Giselle said as she glanced over the letter Serana had given to her, "I think I may have an idea for how to find them."

"Sneak someone into one of Littlefinger's trading caravans or ships?" Serana asked, which earned her a brief grin.

"You read my mind." Giselle stated, loving how they were so alike in so many ways.

"I don't have to. I also have a plan of my own in play. I'll tell you about it once we're at the inn." Giselle only nodded, knowing when to leave something unsaid. And she didn't have to see the hard look in Serana's eyes to know this was one of those times. Once the door to their room shut behind them a few minutes later, only then did Giselle beckon for Serana to divulge her own plan. "Promise me one thing first, you won't get mad when I tell you what I….did."

Giselle's dark face paled visibly when she realized what Serana might have done. Considering all she knew about vampires, the next words out of her mouth were born more of an irrational fear than anything logical. "You didn't enthrall someone did you?" Serana said nothing, but simply looked at her, and that was all Giselle needed. "By the Nine, Serana…" Giselle sighed heavily. She said nothing for a moment, then shrugged, "Well, I don't very much agree with what you did… but I think we can still use this to our advantage."

"I didn't do it lightly. I know you, and I don't like...what my bite can do to people if I don't drain someone completely or near enough, but we are outnumbered in every sense of the word. I figured a few ears, loyal only to us, would even the odds."

Giselle nodded, "Varys has spies, it makes sense we should have our own. I assume they'll be discreet when they address you. None of that Master or Mistress nonsense Harkon was so fond of?"

"I was very precise about what they were to do when I sought them out in the future. So yes, they will follow my orders to the letter, and by conjunction, yours since I named you as my second. For now, they'll listen and wait unless told otherwise." Giselle sighed but nodded, feeling torn about robbing anyone of their free will for any reason, but Serana was right in this case. They needed all the help they could get, and if that meant employing dirty tricks and using magic that was best left to the darkest shadows, so be it. Unlike Ned, she wasn't above disgracing herself if it meant her House survived.

It wasn't until Giselle went over what the vampire said that she shot her a strange look. "They? How many people did you enthrall Serana?"

"Five….today. Tomorrow? I had thought of taking one of the Queen's handmaidens if no one else caught my eye." Giselle raised her eyebrows in shock. "Too much?" Serana asked.

"Just surprising you moved so fast, and that you only plan to move faster by aiming high. If someone catches you in the act…."

The vampire's voice took on a hard edge a moment later, feeling as if she were being treated like some newborn fledgling. "I know what I'm doing Giselle, but I'll still exercise caution. I'm not my father or my mother." Serana slowly embraced the dunmer and whispered into her ear, her voice having softened, "Just as you've told me that I keep you grounded, on the right path, you do the same for me."

When they pulled apart, Giselle nodded her head, glad to hear it. "So, where are these enthralled of yours located?"

"Given that I never liked Baelish from the start, three of them are spread out across his 'establishments'. The other two are Lannister soldiers who thought I was looking to make the 'lion roar'. It didn't take much to lead them to an empty storage room."

"They fell for your flirting?" Giselle said with a chuckle, "Didn't think you had it in you to even flirt with a man."

"I didn't have to flirt. They were all too eager to try and wet their 'swords' if I had given them half a chance." Serana grimaced at the imagery she had painted for herself. "I wanted to throw up when I got a taste of them They were about as foul as they were ugly. Felt like I was drinking pig's blood than anything close to a 'lion'."

"But not the women?" Giselle asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"They _were _tasty." Serana admitted, "and flirting with them was easy enough, especially since a few of their… customers were women. But they had nothing on you. Your veins hold liquid fire, while theirs only whetted my appetite, if that."

"Glad to hear it, or I might have felt a bit jealous." Giselle chuckled before remembering what Jon had asked of her, and as much as she wanted to push things further, she sighed and looked away. It was enough to make Serana forget what she had been thinking. "I spoke to Jon Arryn today. He was kind, as he has been since the start, but he asked something I don't know if I can give."

Serana's face grew grim, "What did he want?"

"Not what. _Who_. Lucia, to foster here with his family, unless for some reason he goes back to the Eyrie."

"He _what_? He wants Lucia? I hope you told him not a chance in Oblivion."

"At first I wanted to." Giselle admitted before she went into detail about her confrontation with the Lord of the Vale. When she was done, it was Serana's turn to be flustered. "I told him that I'd let Lucia decide, but I wanted to hear what you had to say about it as well. You're a part of this as much as I am."

"I honestly don't know what to say because this isn't something I had ever considered. That kind of trust….it's unheard of among vampires, as you can imagine. We're as likely to kill each other as the...'cattle' my father kept at the castle." Serana had started to pace, her hand at her chin while her elbow rested in her free hand. "This isn't something I'd decide lightly, if for no other reason Lucia would be a little too close to the Lannisters for my liking, as you said yourself."

"And there's Lysa to worry about. What few stories I've heard about her I don't like." Giselle said, and Serana stopped long enough to nod her head in agreement before she started pacing again. "We can't do anything about this now, not until we talk to Lucia at least."

"Agreed, but I just want to go on record and say this isn't a good idea."

"That we can safely agree on." Giselle was about to say more, but a knock on the door stopped her. "Come in."

"It's me Shield-Sister." Farkas rumbled as he walked in, an unusually wide grin on his face as he shut the door behind him. "Have you heard the news?"

"What news would that be?" Giselle asked, having crossed her arms in impatience. Farkas had a bad habit of leaving people in suspense when he was in a good mood.

"The King's having something called a Nameday tournament. I wager it's some kind of party for the fat bastard, but he's inviting us to attend. The whole thing is in a few weeks time, but I think it'd be worth our while to show what Skyrim can do."

"You just want an excuse to hit someone Farkas." Serana said with a chuckle.

"And that's a bad thing?" Farks said with a shrug, "I haven't had a good fight in weeks… months even. Last fight I had, I was cheated out of because the rotted Oblivion fools blew themselves to pieces before I could get at them. As Mjoll would say, I'm itching for a fight."

"You know what Farkas?" Giselle said as she turned to the giant Companion, a gleam in her eyes that had Serana groaning while Farkas's grin widened to encompass his whole face. "I think we just might be at this little party."

"I'd kiss you, except I wouldn't want her to bite my face off." Farkas rumbled in reply.

"I'd bite more than just your face off." Serana grumbled, but she shook her head and honestly, couldn't stay angry at either of them even if she tried. "Well, if we're staying around, then maybe we should bring Lucia here then?" The hidden meaning behind the vampire's words wasn't lost on Giselle, and it tempered her good mood as she merely nodded. "Maybe some time at the capitol will make her reluctant to agree to your harebrained idea Giselle."

"One can only hope."

"Wait, what idea is this?" When Giselle only slammed the door in his face, Farkas was left scratching his head. "Women." He ignored the glare Delphine was throwing his way for the idle comment as he walked down to the main hall, leaving the Blade to her own devices.

Delphine had returned just as Farkas was leaving, and forced her way into Giselle's room. "Do you mind explaining what Farkas was talking about?" The two shared a strange look that the Blade didn't like, and found that she didn't like the explanation a lot more. "No." Delphine said simply, "Absolutely not. You aren't going to expose her to this pit of spiders, especially with that Thalmor slug running around."

"Forgetting the fact it's not your decision to make, I agree with you that it's a bad idea, but we need allies." Serana replied, hoping she'd see reason.

She was disappointed when Delphine rounded on Giselle next. "Please tell me you aren't seriously entertaining this."

"I am, but not for the reason Serana gave." That put the Blade back a step as Giselle considered her next words carefully. "I don't like this anymore than you do, and in all honesty, I'm hoping Lucia says the same thing you did Delphine, but if we want this to work, we need to cement our friendships somehow. Besides, with Lucia so close to the Arryns and the Lannister children, there's a pretty good possibility she might befriend at least one of them. But the most important part of this, to me anyway, is that Jon Arryn has promised to educate her on their ways, so that when she is returned to us, she'll be able to share a new perspective of how this world works. A perspective we might need before this is over. Books have only gotten us so far."

"And while she's being mentored by some old man with a potentially dangerous wife, you leave her within easy reach of the most powerful family with a reputation for murder and worse. Yeah, this'll end real well." Delphine snarked before taking a step closer to the pair. "I'll stand beside you if this is what she agrees with, but if something happens to her Giselle, I will never forgive you."

"How do you think I'll feel about it Delphine?" Giselle shot back, meeting the dirty blonde's intense gaze with one of her own. "You didn't pull her off the street. You didn't give her a home. You didn't shower her with warmth and love and make her feel welcome. So don't try to lecture me or threaten me." It was Giselle's turn to take a step closer before she reached out and put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "You haven't said anything I haven't already considered, and while I'm just as reluctant to put her in harm's way….I don't think we have a lot of choices." Delphine said nothing, but she nodded as her hard expression softened. It was as close to an apology and a mutual agreement on their current situation as she was going to get.

_End Notes; __**Vergil1989**__; Another chapter, another twist, another potential road to disaster that is the Game of Thrones formula. I honestly hope you guys enjoy because your patience will be well rewarded if you've been hoping for some action. It's coming sooner than you think. At any rate, keep those reviews, faves, and follows coming. I want to give a quick shout out to __**Doctor Eagle **__for his continued support. Adios and may the Nine bless your path._

_**Doctor Eagle**__: This has been awesome fun working with __**Vergil1989 **__on his work, as well has his help with my own Skyrim/GoT fanfic. The plots are thickening and the suspense is building. Keep reading, valiant readers, and continue your journey into the realm that is… __**Heed Our Voice**_**.**


	10. Three Masks, One Face

Opening notes; _**Vergil1989**__; I did a little research today, and found, much to my chagrin and annoyance, that Lucia isn't a Nord, but rather an Imperial. I feel like a complete idiot lol, but for simplicity's sake, I'll probably keep referring to her as a Nord since she IS of Skyrim. That blonde moment aside, the story itself has turned out quite well, and your continued support has made me quite the happy author. I just hope this new chapter lives up to what everyone expects._

_As for this opening scene, I actually have a good friend to thank for the general idea. __**Archer83**_ _made a valid point during one of our writing sessions, and said that words have power. He was dead on, as he usually is, so this opening scene is a nod to his genius. Thanks old friend! For now, enjoy folks!_

**(For added effect, play Skyrim's main theme, The Song of the Dragonborn, with or without the translation. You'll know when to hit the play button. D)**

**Three weeks later.**

**King's Landing**

Delphine and Aela returned to King's Landing with Lucia, Vilkas, and an understandably upset Lydia in tow, as well as a number of eager members of her House. They wanted to participate and watch the tournament that was due in a week's time, and they were far from the only ones as countless knights from every corner of the realm filtered into the city. Knights of the Vale, Lannister men from Casterly Rock, the Riverlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, even a few men from the north as far as Winterfell came to attend the festivities. Giselle suspected they were there to see more than the king on his upcoming Nameday though, since word had gotten out that Westeros had visitors.

Everywhere she went, men at arms of all hues and their noble entourages all found excuses to see the strangers from the formerly fabled land of Tamriel. Most of them regarded her with open curiosity rather than the cautious, if not outright terror, she had gotten used to from her time in the capital, especially if J'zargo and Veezara were around. Speaking of the odd pair, Veezara had since gotten a location for Eldria's chosen place of residence while in the city, as well as a number of useful facts that she planned to use against Eldria when she had the chance, but that was for later consideration. Just as the idea of handing Lucia over to Jon Arryn was for another time. Today was for far more important things. Today would be the day the capital heard the voice of the people of Skyrim, and realized that they were there to stay.

Despite their argument, Delphine had ridden out of King's Landing with all speed to find Lucia and bring her back. But unbeknownst to most, Giselle had left specific instructions for the Blade to allow anyone that wanted to follow. When a message came back that most of her _House _had wanted to come down to the capital to, in Farkas's words, 'show those milk drinkers a thing or two,' she had limited the number to fifty, of which some she knew would no doubt want to compete, while the rest would sit with the rest of the audience. She had eased their disappointment somewhat by allowing them to make their presence known well ahead of the horde that was due to descend on King's Landing any moment now.

They had chosen their timing perfectly since the city streets were lined with commoners and nobles alike, despite the heat from the noonday sun overhead, eagerly awaiting the contenders for this year's tournament. Countless knights and their Lords and Ladies had ridden in already, and while more were due to arrive over the following days, there were one group that everyone was eagerly awaiting. Just when she wondered if her party had been delayed, Giselle's ears perked up when she heard the all too familiar chant of her bannermen as they rode into the city, drowning out everyone else that rode in ahead of them. She couldn't have been prouder to have had them at her side as Vilkas, Farkas, who had rode out ahead that morning to meet his brother at the gate, and Aela led the booming song, while Delphine and the rest followed in the actual words, spoken solely in Dovahzul, the language of the dragons.

_Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,_

_Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!_

_Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,_

_Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!_

_Huzrah nu, kul do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod,_

_Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!_

_Wo lost fron wah ney dov, ahrk fin reyliik do jul,_

_Voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein_

_Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod,_

_Rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein!_

_Sahrot Thu'um, med aan tuz, vey zeim hokoron pah,_

_Ol fin Dovahkiin komeyt ok rein!_

They came in wave after wave, men and women of every race, from every corner of Tamriel. Nords from Skyrim, Imperials from Cyrodiil, Redguards from Hammerfell, Argonians from Black Marsh, Khajiit from Elsweyr, all of them and more filtered into the capital atop their horses, dressed in armor and robes that were just as varied as the people themselves. But among these strange beings, several stood out among the rest as Giselle's Dragonguard lead the parade march that would have made General Tullius proud in its flawless execution. She stood out the most, having donned her battle scarred dragonplate for the day's festivities, but she _was _the Dragonborn, such was expected of her.

She brought her horse in line with Lucia's, the black steed with her red eyes flanked by Lucia's brown coated charger. The Nord's hazel eyes were as wide as saucers at the spectacle before her and the sound of their powerful song behind her. She was the only one not dressed in armor or robes, having worn her best dress for the day's events, but that mattered little at that moment since she rode between her mother and Serana. She was as tall as any of the heroes of her homeland, and Lucia's heart was fit to burst from all of the excitement. The entire city had turned out to meet them as the citizens of King's Landing waved and shouted their cheer, and despite her misgivings, Giselle couldn't have been happier for Lucia as she looked up to the dunmer in awe before trying to add her small voice to their call. The cheers on either side of the stone lined path were drowned out as fifty of House Dovahkiin's forces rode through the city gate behind the dunmer, making their presence known to every corner of the capital.

_Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,_

_Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!_

_Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,_

_Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!_

_Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,_

_Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!_

_Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau,_

_Voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!_

_Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok,_

_Fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!_

_Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot,_

_Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!_

_Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,_

_Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!_

_Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan_

_Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!_

If the nobility had doubted her commitment before, they certainly didn't now as Skyrim's people outshone even the Lannisters. In an effort to remind those around them they were still around, dozens of Lannister men, who knew the Rains of Castamere by heart, tried to drown out the northerners, but they like everyone else, were shouted down. House Dovahkiin would not be silenced by the proud lion, and the Rains were silenced before the men behind it could gain any momentum.

No one was there to hear the Rains of Castamere that day.

Taking command of the same inn she had been staying at since her arrival to the capital, fifty sons and daughters of Skyrim filled the building of stone. All of the other patrons wisely left and sought other lodgings, leaving the strangers to their loud and boisterous ways. For Giselle, it felt good to be surrounded by her old friends from every corner of Skyrim even if they were in a foreign city, under a foreign sky.

Not everyone was happy for the spectacle the dunmer and her people had put on for the commoners. Cersei Lannister had looked upon the parade march of the strangest assortment of people she still held no love for, with disdain and a measure of terror. She knew a threat when she saw one, and the love and adoration they showered the dark elf with made it clear to the Queen that the Lannisters were in trouble. She would have been far more worried if their leader, Giselle Morgonnis, had been trying to seize the throne, but even she had to admit that so far, there hadn't been so much as a guard bribed according to Lord Varys. Either she was biding her time, or Giselle truly wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne. Cersei didn't know which terrified her more, the idea that she didn't want anything to do with the throne, or that she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce, and now this latest display of the woman's power had her wondering what Giselle would do next.

Tyrion Lannister and his brother had found the flawlessly executed march and the song to be the high point of the day's events. While Jaime was guarded about his opinion, saying only that he admired the woman's daring for announcing her intentions to every street in the capital, Tyrion had had far more to say on the matter. He had seen from the moment the song started what Giselle had done. She had waited until almost all of the Lords and Ladies of Westeros were already in King's Landing, thus ensuring that everyone's lips held one name and one name alone. House Dovahkiin from the once mythical land of Tamriel, their motto, Heed Our Voice. In one move, she had spread the name and growing legend of her people to every corner of the continent, and Tyrion applauded her brilliance. While it was attention she would later no doubt come to regret, for the moment, no one would dare raise a hand against her and her people, at least not openly.

King Robert Baratheon couldn't help but think of his glory days as the Rebel King, the Usurper, of days that were long behind him as the stirring song woke up something in him he had thought long dead. Going to his balcony window, the man looked down and gave a great booming laugh when he saw what all the noise was about. "Gods I'm starting to fall in love with that woman." He muttered before he shook his head and turned away. If she wanted to make an entrance, he wasn't about to stop her.

Lysa and Jon Arryn had heard the noise from Skyrim's song, and Jon had to smile at Giselle's proud declaration of the people she had been adopted into. It was little wonder she favored them so much, since, like her, they were people of action. They might have made their presence known through mere words, but what words they were! If they sung half as well as they made their way through life, Jon was certain that the realm would be far better off with them standing _beside _Westeros, not against it. Lysa remained silent, with a barely one year old Robin at her breast, but something in her heart soared as the Dragonborn's song reached its crescendo, and even her sickly child seemed to still for a moment before he returned to fussing and crying softly again. Despite her misgivings of her husband's desire to take another child under their protection, Lysa was more than a little curious to meet this Lucia of Whiterun, from the province of Skyrim after this display.

While everyone was eager to meet these strangers, whether to satisfy their own curiosity or for other, less savory reasons, Giselle had called a closed meeting of the Dark Brotherhood, and had posted guards both at the entrance to the inn and at her bedroom door. Several stood in the same room that she and Serana had shared, dressed like any common member of Skyrim, but one only needed to look at their faces and see the hungry, murderous gleams in their respective gazes to know something was seriously wrong with most of these people.

"A number of people in this city has brought to my attention a serious problem." Giselle began as she swept her gaze across the motley crew of assassins young and old. Babette, Gabriella, Nazir, Veezara, and Mathias, the only Westerosi recruited into the Brotherhood so far, had been asked to attend. She lingered on the blue eyed youth, who didn't meet her gaze, but he nodded his head to show he was on her side. She took the gesture for what it was before she continued. "Some of you might know this already, but the Thalmor survived and have taken up residence somewhere in Westeros." The shouts of refusal and denial she had expected, and she let them die down before saying, "Veezara has gathered a substantial amount of information about their movements so far, but we've yet to find a way to locate their base of operations outside of the capital. That's where you come in."

"Do we have a way in Listener?" Nazir asked, and Giselle nodded her head as she turned to the Redguard.

"I need two volunteers to find, locate, and sneak aboard one of the trading ships that are bound for the Thalmor's base here in Westeros. Veezara has more on what ships are potentially heading in that direction. I cannot stress caution enough my Brothers and Sisters. These are the same elven people that brought an Empire to its knees and almost destroyed Skyrim. They'll be expecting something like this, and if you're caught, you won't have the same allies we have back home."

"So don't get caught, sounds like an easy enough plan to me Sister." Nazir retorted with his customary brand of dry sarcasm. "Otherwise we'll end up stabbed, drowned, drawn, hanged, disemboweled, and quartered. That about sum it up?"

"More or less." Seeing Mathias had turned white as a sheet, Giselle put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a comforting look. "You get used to his humor."

"Right ma'am, Lady Morgonnis...Listener." Mathias replied, uncertain which title was acceptable in this instance.

Before Giselle could tell him to relax, another spoke up. "Are we sure we can trust this one, being so close to his former master?" Gabriella asked before she looked to her fellow dunmer. "I understand a thing or two about loyalty, that it is not easily forgotten, especially if this Spider did half as much for this young child as he claims."

Mathias's blue eyes flared with anger at the open suspicion the dark elf had laid at his feet. "I understand you think I'm a turncoat, a traitor, so that makes you untrusting as it is. Yeah, it's true I threw in my lot with you, but it wasn't because she spared my life." This he accentuated by nodding his head to Giselle, who only raised an eyebrow. "It helped, I'll admit, but I saw what life was like for your people while I was still spying for Varys, and there's….a sense of warmth and companionship I never had on the streets. I might be a part of the Dark Brotherhood now, but my heart belongs to Skyrim. Westeros never had any love for a street urchin like me, even with Lord Varys' seeing to my well being and education. So fuck off Gabriella."

All it took was a look from Giselle to stop the dunmer dead in her tracks before she turned her gaze on Mathias next. "I can relate better than you can imagine Mathias, but trust has to be earned, even among this band of killers and cutthroats." Her gentle chastisement was more effective than any sharp retort from Gabriella or Nazir, and Mathias meekly nodded his head in response. "Now, unless there's anything else, you need to scatter while I play my own part. Good luck, and hail Sithis." The response was instantaneous, even from their newest member as they dispersed to the four winds, save for Babette who couldn't go outside until the sun went down. But with a sewer entrance behind the front desk in the main hall, she had her own exit for when she wanted to explore the city underground at her leisure.

The vampire stayed by Giselle's side for the length of time it took her to head downstairs to the main hall, where the vast majority of her people resided. When they saw her, the cheerful banter and roars of approval reached a crescendo before it tapered off somewhat. Somewhere amidst the hearty slaps to her back and the mugs raised in her name, Babette slipped away from Giselle's side, an all too familiar hungry gleam to her red eyes. She had already given the 'child' the same speech she had given Serana about covering her tracks if she left a corpse behind, and Babette had agreed to be careful. She just hoped it would be enough, but her concern was forgotten when she saw Lydia, Serana, Farkas, Vilkas, and a beaming Lucia sitting by the door.

Serana and Lucia fell in step the moment she reached their side, and with a pointed look from Lydia, Giselle nodded her head to show that she hadn't forgotten she wanted to speak with her as soon as she was able. Now was not the time, not with so many pieces on the board already, and many more yet to be played the closer to the tournament it drew.

So it came as no surprise when Giselle, with her two most valued love ones in tow, that Renly Baratheon and his handpicked knights, one of which was Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, stopped them on their way to the Tower of the Hand. "Lady Morgonnis, Lady Volkihar, so good to see you both" While Lucia's gaze still held a measure of wonder from everything that had happened that day already, she blushed when the handsome knight with his cape of white roses smiled down at her, while one of the King's own brothers knelt next to her and beamed at her. "And you must be the mysterious Lucia we've heard so much about. Welcome to King's Landing."

"Thank you, m'lord." She managed to squeak out before taking a step back, her smile bashful and shy which Renly found quite amusing.

"No need to be afraid, I'm not as scary as I look." He laughed at his own joke, and Lucia started to relax, losing some of her shyness as Renly stood and dusted himself off before turning to the two women that flanked her. "Going to present her to Lord Arryn I assume? I don't suppose I could make the same offer and you'd accept by any chance would you?" He knew the answer to his own question.

"A little late now, wouldn't you say?" Serana quipped, earning her a slight grimace from the Lord of the Stormlands.

At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. "I admit, I judged you all in haste, and now I seem to be paying for it. I'm sure she'll get bored with the old soldier that is our Hand though."

"The man is a bit of a bore my lord." Loras agreed, but he paled somewhat when he thought he saw something peculiar sticking out of the pale woman's upper lip. It looked like a fang, but when he blinked, it was gone. He shook his head and thought no more of it.

Renly missed the entire thing, his gaze solely on Lucia and Giselle, who had either by some subconscious impulse or not, had put a hand on the girl's shoulder. That simple gesture had Lucia standing tall, her eyes affixed solely on the two men before her. "If it's all the same to you m'lord, I'll make my own opinion of Lord Arryn."

"Well spoken little one." Renly replied, nodding his approval even as he silently cursed his luck for spurning House Dovahkiin when Eldria had incited Lady Morgonnis's rage. Now he couldn't take back his mistake and try to do what their Hand had accomplished. He shrugged it off, and planned to try and find another way to make the people of Skyrim friends to the Stormlands. For the moment though, at some unspoken word between him and Loras, the knight plucked a white rose off of his cape, which Renly took before handing it to Lucia. The girl looked ready to faint away with joy when she hesitantly took the flower. Renly only smiled at the expression on the young girl's face. "A pretty flower, one I hear might be quite fitting given how cold it is in your homeland, Lucia."

"Thank you m'lord." Lucia managed to say as Giselle beamed down at her girl, forgetting for a moment her irritation at the badly hidden attempt to sucker his way back into their good graces. A shared look with Serana, and Giselle saw that she knew what was going on, but they wisely held their scorn in check. This wasn't about them, it was about Lucia, and besides, there was some sincerity in the Baratheon's gaze, so it took some of the sting out of the past slight. Lucia had since tucked the pale white flower behind her right ear, covered partially by her shoulder length brunette hair, and once more she became shy and bashful as Renly and his entourage took their leave. It was only when they had gone that Lucia shook herself out of her stupor and looked up to Giselle and Serana. "Didn't you say he didn't want anything to do with you earlier mama?"

"Yep." Giselle said simply, having since started down the road towards the castle.

"He seemed interested now that I'm here." Lucia said with a note of scorn as she silently considered leaving the white rose on the street.

"Glad that you noticed." Serana quipped, and shot the young girl an amused look when she felt Lucia punch her in the back. "Shall I get you a bucket so you can drool in it when Ser Tyrell comes by again?"

"Serana." Giselle chuckled and shook her head, even as Lucia glared daggers at the vampire. "Even so little wing, you need to be care-"

"I know mama, I heard. There's Thalmor in the capital, and most everyone in the city isn't to be trusted." Lucia replied, again surprising Giselle with just how smart she truly was. "Delphine made it a point to talk about the 'nest of vipers' the whole way here."

"Ah, I see." Giselle nodded her head before she spun on her heel and put a hand on Lucia's shoulder. "But she is right. There's something about the Iron Throne that incites the nobility to try and gain any advantage they can over their neighbors. A friend today might very well be an enemy tomorrow. I don't expect you to understand it now, just be careful who you trust Lucia." Lucia nodded her head solemnly, taking the dunmer's words to heart. She had been betrayed by her family before Giselle took her in. She understood betrayal better than any child ever had a right to, and it both made Giselle proud and heartbroken when she saw the look in her eyes.

She didn't get a chance to dwell on it though when Tyrion, with Jaime at his side, met them at the beginning of the long climb up the Tower's steps. "Greetings mighty House Dovahkiin." Tyrion greeted cheerfully before his gaze fell on the youngest among them. "And well met Lucia of Whiterun. I see you've already been introduced to the far kinder of the King's brothers, judging by the white rose behind your ear. A proper King's Landing welcome if there ever was one."

"Thank you Lord Tyrion, Ser Jaime." Lucia stated with a respectful curtsy, which surprised Tyrion slightly as his eyebrows shot up to his slightly misshapen brow.

"Don't act so surprised dear brother, I suspect our friends here had quite a lot of good things to tell her about you." Jaime said with that customary smug look plastered on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, but while the smug smirk on his face didn't disappear, it softened somewhat when he looked down at Lucia. "So you're the one all the fuss is about. Your mothers must be quite taken by you if they came in, singing at the top of their lungs."

Giselle tried to ignore the sarcasm that dripped off of Jaime's tongue, and didn't quite succeed as she crossed her own arms and looked down her nose at him. Before she got a chance to snap her boot off in the Kingslayer's backside, verbally speaking, Serana beat her to the punch. "The things people do for love, wouldn't you say?"

It was Tyrion's turn to interrupt Jaime before he could dig himself a bigger hole as he waddled up to Lucia, who already stood taller than he did, and presented a bundle to her that he had been keeping out of sight until then. "Do you like to read child?"

"I do." Lucia replied proudly, and Tyrion's smile widened slightly at the declaration. He always found it the height of his day when he found someone that had an interest in the finer things in life, such as reading, drinking, and whoring, although he realized he was likely biased on those last two.

"Then you might like these. The Complete Songs and Histories of the Seven Kingdoms." The heavy bundle of books Lucia took from the dwarf's arms with a beaming smile, and the infectious cheer had Tyrion matching the gesture. "Whether or not you decide to stay with the Arryns, know that you will always be welcome in King's Landing my dear."

"Sorry, I forgot a present." Jaime said when all eyes fell on him, but he did look down at Lucia's belt, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the dagger there. It wasn't a wooden one either, but one made of steel he wasn't familiar with. "You allow her to carry a dagger?" He asked, not in scorn, but with sheer curiosity. When Serana and Giselle merely shrugged, Jaime let it go, seeing no point in trying to make sense of their ways.

"Be nice Jaime, from what I hear, Skyrim is quite a bit more dangerous than our fair continent. Why shouldn't the girl go armed and be able to defend herself, should they ever return home?" Tyrion replied, and Jaime found he had no ready answer as they bade the trio good day as Serana, Giselle, and Lucia started up the steps. "So, are we still taking bets from the men on whether or not they leave her here?" Tyrion asked when he was certain they were too far away to hear him.

"I personally don't find it very sporting, but last I checked, we were." Jaime said with a nod.

"Oh good." Tyrion replied cheerfully before he waddled away. He didn't want to be near the Tower of the Hand when Giselle found out about the gambling that he had started. He wasn't sure she'd take it so well.

It wasn't long after that that they stood before the door that led to Jon and Lysa Arryn's chambers. As before, Ser Egen Vardis of the Hand's guard, nodded his head to the trio. "Lady Morgonnis, Lady Volkihar, it's good to see you. Is this your girl Lady Morgonnis?" He asked when he looked down to the girl, her arms wrapped around the Imp's gift. The smile on Giselle's lips was all the man needed in answer. "Some light reading young one?" The knight asked, chuckling warmly when Lucia nodded her head cheerfully. "That's good. Lord Arryn's expecting you all."

"Thank you Ser Vardis." Giselle said as the man opened the door, having grown to like the fellow to some degree since their first meeting. And he wasn't the only one. Over the last few weeks, she had made it a point to talk to Lysa anytime she wasn't busy, tending to her child, and despite her initial misgivings, Lady Arryn wasn't as bad as people had made her out to be. Yes, she was slightly off, but most of it Giselle figured had more to do with her simply holding her baby boy too tightly more than any mental frailty. So when they were allowed in the Hand's chambers, she wasn't surprised to see Lysa, her one year old Robin, and Jon waiting for them. "Lord and Lady Arryn." She said in greeting, before stepping to the side to allow Serana and Lucia in behind her.

"Lady Morgonnis." Jon replied with measured cheer, his weariness from fighting with the King over this tournament all but forgotten after the parade march she had led into King's Landing only an hour earlier. "I didn't think you'd make it here with the way the crowds in the city are clamoring to meet you after that grand performance you led into the heart of the capital." His restraint broke and his small smile blossomed into a full blown grin, which he leveled solely on Lucia a moment later. "You are truly blessed to have her as your mother, Lucia of Whiterun."

"I thank the Nine Divines daily for sending her to me." Lucia replied wholeheartedly as Jon helped clear a space for the bundle in her arms, which she gladly sat down with a grunt. The books had been a welcome gift, but lugging them all the way up to Jon's chambers hadn't been easy.

"I imagine you do Lucia." Jon replied, his warm smile never faltering as he sat down at the large, round oak table. "Do you know why you're here?" He asked gently, in an effort not to frighten or startle her, but he needn't have worried so much.

"I have a good idea." The girl replied slowly, meeting the old man's face with a look that didn't belong on the face of a child. It was one that was both as wise as it was full of old sorrow. Even after hearing how her parents had been killed during the civil war and how her aunt and uncle had thrown her out, a part of Jon had hoped Giselle had overstated things a bit. That part had been thoroughly silenced in that moment as Lucia confirmed what they had talked about. "You want to take me into your home." It was the simplest answer, the safest one since she had a few things she could have said that wouldn't have been considered kind.

Jon noted the flash of anger in the girl's brown eyes and had to bite his tongue when a snort of amusement threatened to escape him at her attempt to keep a civil tongue. She was more Nord than Imperial, and from what Giselle had told him about both races, the Hand of the King found Lucia's spirit a far more welcome sight than any knack for diplomacy as she was trying to use now, even if it was out of courtesy on their first meeting than anything. So, with a subtle look at his wife, who had caught the flash in Lucia's gaze as well and tried to hide her own smirk, Jon leaned forward and attempted to rile the girl into speaking her mind openly. "I prefer honesty over flattery Lucia. Ask anyone that has ever served beside me, who number among my close friends, and they'll tell you the same thing. I prefer blunt words over soft lies any day."

Giselle and Serana both had told Lucia as much, but neither woman could blame the girl for trying to play it safe since she didn't know Jon half as well as they did. Just as the dunmer started to say something to encourage her, Lucia crossed her arms over her chest before falling for Jon's trap. "I'm not stupid. I'm close to eleven years old, and I know what it's like to go hungry and cold and feel betrayed. The other kids in Whiterun would make fun of me for not having a family or a house or anything, and no one wanted a dirty, flea bitten girl in their lives. Except for my new mama, when she actually had a house to live in." Giselle flinched at the reminder, but a hand on the small of her back from the vampire next to her had her relaxing just as quickly.

All the while, Lucia gained momentum. "She was gone all the time, hunting down bandits for the Jarls, stopping the Daedra and the Thalmor, slaying dragons, but she'd always come home and tell me about all of her adventures. She'd bring home presents sometimes; books, a new doll, dresses, and eventually this." Lucia pointed to the dagger on her hip before she continued. "I was just happy to have a mama that cared. It didn't take long before some of her friends started coming by to keep me company and show me how to take care of myself. And while they never said it, I knew it was on the chance mama never came home again. But she always did, and now we're here, and now you want to take me away from her? If I didn't understand why and that she's told me that it would only be for a few years, I'd tell you to rot in Oblivion first."

Jon blinked his hazel eyes twice before he did the last thing Lysa had expected him to do. He leaned his head back and laughed, the sound coming from deep in his belly. When he recovered from his bout of laughter, rich and deep and needed as it was, Jon's smile was wide and warmer than ever. "Right from the mouth of a babe, the truth shall be there plain as day. You truly are a native to Skyrim, aren't you Lucia?" His question had the girl blinking in confusion, having expected him to be angry for her curse at the end of her impassioned speech, but Jon waved her off before she could try and apologize. "I told you, I want honesty between us, and I'd be a fool to try and subdue that warrior spirit that's just starting to shine through. I think you and my squire, Hugh, will get along well. You might even teach him some humility." He finished with a chuckle before growing somber a moment later. "You don't have to answer me today Lucia, or tomorrow, or the day after that. Just meeting you has been an honor my dear girl, but you'd do me an even greater honor if you said yes by the time this whole fiasco of a tournament our Grace, King Robert, has insisted on, is over with."

"You don't approve of the Nameday tournament?" Serana asked, slightly surprised by Jon's statement.

"No, I don't, but let's not talk of it anymore. Gods know I've tried." Jon sighed, but perked up despite himself when he saw the look on Lucia's face. "You've never seen a tournament before have you? You might enjoy yourself quite a bit Lucia. If you'd like, and your mother approves, I could ask to have you and a few of your fellows seated down by the field itself."

"I don't see a problem with it." Giselle said, her smirk turning into a wide smile when Lucia cheered. Despite everything she'd been through, she was still a child at heart.

"Good. Enjoy your stay in King's Landing, Lucia of Skyrim."

"Thank you Lord Arryn." Lucia exclaimed as she collected her books and started towards the door, but stopped just as Giselle opened it for her. "And thank you, for asking I mean. If it had been one of the King's brothers, I might have said no by now."

"I thought I recognized that white rose. I take it you ran into Renly and his Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell." Lysa said before Jon could, while Lucia picked at the flower absentmindedly. "Renly Baratheon is a kind if foolish young man. You could do worse than him if you refuse my Lord husband's generous offer." Lucia only nodded, suddenly shy and wanting to get out of there before she said something embarrassing again.

Thankfully, Giselle was there to save her from such an amusing plight as she gently ushered the girl out the door. "Thank you for seeing her on such short notice Lord and Lady Arryn. We'll see you again." With that, the door shut behind her before she, Serana, and Lucia started back down the long staircase. "That turned out better than I thought it would. Did you like them at least Lucia?"

"Yeah, I did. Although I wondered if I might have been….too straightforward." Lucia muttered as her cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

Serana laughed and ruffled the girl's hair. "I don't think you have anything to worry about Lucia. If anything, I think you only convinced him further. We tried to tell you he wanted honesty from the start though."

"There's a difference between honesty and just being rude though." Giselle was quick to gently chastise both of her girls, even if one of them had left her maiden years far behind

"And you cross that line all the time mama." Lucia was quick to point out, much to the dunmer's amused annoyance.

"Have I ever told you that you've got a smart mouth?" Giselle asked, her brown eyes alight with humor.

"Yep." Lucia cheerfully replied.

"Just checking." Giselle replied, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

**King's Landing docks.**

While Giselle had been busy at the Tower of the Hand, Aela found herself standing at the docks once more. She missed home, and while she wasn't half as eager for a fight like Farkas, the Huntress still felt the need to test herself against a worthy opponent from time to time. She had heard of the exploits of the King's Guard, same as most of those in the city, but she hadn't been impressed with the full compliment that had stood before the Iron Throne, as if they were equal to the Dragonguard and their Dovahkiin. No one could match the Harbinger in single or group combat, that much Aela was certain of, especially not the milk drinkers that called themselves knights.

The only one she had given more than a passing look to had been Barristan Selmy, the Commander of their order. The man was old, but he carried himself with a grace that appealed to the honor bound Companion. He didn't lord over his peers, didn't think himself above them in any way, even though he was rumored to be the best swordsman alive, and he was humble about his accomplishments. She had had a few conversations with Selmy since coming to the capital, and all of them had her walking away with a smile on her lips.

Then there were the rest of the King's Guard. Meryn Trant had the look of a man that simply followed orders, and didn't have a mind to call his own. Such a man had no place standing guard to anyone, especially a King who drank and whored his life away. Jaime Lannister was no better in her eyes, with his smug smirk and the cocky arrogance of someone who hadn't fought for anyone but himself. The only redeeming quality he had was that he had slain the Mad King, but even that deed was tarnished by the fact he had waited so long to destroy Aerys. He served as long as serving was safe, and Aela saw no honor and had no respect for him since even his action of murdering the king had served his own interests, mainly the preservation of his own life.

The other members hadn't even crossed Aela's mind since they were all the same in their heavy armor with their blank, stupid faces. They were flatterers but soldiers to the King, and they'd serve loyally, but blindly. Meryn at least had the decency to keep his mouth shut unless addressed.

The Huntress was so lost in her thoughts that she hear the heavy footfalls until they were right on top of her. She spun on her heel, faster than she had a right to, and drew her bow with an arrow already in her hands all in the same movement. The man she leveled the iron tipped arrow at only blinked his eyes and stared down the arrowhead. "Shoot me if you're going to shoot me, otherwise put that damn thing away woman, before I break it into kindling."

"I'd like to see you try Hound." Aela growled, but did as Sandor Clegane had demanded of her before crossing her arms under her chest. She had no problem looking at the hideously scarred and burned flesh on the right side of his face. She had seen far worse.

As for her challenge, Sandor laughed dryly and took a step closer, bringing his height to bear on the red head. She only narrowed her eyes at the not so subtle attempt to intimidate her. "You'd be doing my fucking brother a favor if you managed to get a shot off before I gutted you."

"You'd find me a lot harder to kill than any opponent you've ever faced." Aela grinned, and Sandor narrowed his eyes when he thought he saw her teeth start to change into that of a wolf's, but when he blinked, the elongated teeth had disappeared. "What brings you down to the docks? I thought you were supposed to be with the Prince?"

"That little shit doesn't like me standing around all day, but his mother insists. He insists I piss off, so here I am. I'd rather face the Queen's wrath than listen to him prattle on." Sandor grumbled, his eyes never leaving her tattooed face. "And what of you? I thought you and your dark skinned friend were inseparable?"

"She insists that her Dragonguard doesn't need to be at her side every hour of the day, and has on many occasions encouraged us to make friends, to see the city, meet its people. It has been quite an experience, but I admit I'd rather be fighting than growing fat and lazy from too much good food and drink."

Again, Sandor laughed, but there was an almost cheery sound to it as he crossed his arms over his armored chest. "You're liked a caged beast, eager to go on the hunt aren't you?" He asked, a twisted grin on his burned face that would have made most men piss themselves.

Aela only grinned wider in response as she let her arms fall to her sides and nodded her head. "They don't call me the Huntress for nothing. The craving for glorious battle can only be held off for so long."

"Maybe I'll see you in the melee then." Sandor said before he walked away. Aela found herself looking forward to the festivities for the first time since hearing about the affair as she watched the Hound leave the docks.

**The Main Hall.**

The Iron Throne, and the hall itself with its stone pillars, was empty. It wasn't the first time she had seen the hall empty, but Delphine always found it slightly eerie to see it devoid of activity. The Jarls never left their castles or long house audience chambers unattended for long, but here, she had seen that the King and his so called advisors left things unfinished all the time. The plight of the common man went unheard, while the Lords and Ladies that called themselves nobility were at least given an audience on most occasions. The only exception to this rule that the powerful were catered to without question or hesitation was Jon Arryn. He had made it a point to address both the commoner and the nobility in equal measure, but it hadn't taken the Blade long to notice he favored the people over their lords. He truly was a man of the people, and that much at least made her opinion on his request to foster Lucia less harsh, if only slightly.

Delphine looked around, her feet carrying her forward, ever closer to the Iron Throne and its thousand blades. She had counted a little closer to two hundred and sixty, give or take ten blades. She was sure someone had counted them all and had the number written down somewhere, but that was a distant thought as she ascended the steps that led up to the throne itself. It didn't look like a comfortable chair at all, but she supposed that was the point. Power wasn't supposed to be comfortable. Anyone who sat on that chair would never find a moment of peace, and that at least met her approval as she ran a gauntlet covered hand over the right armrest. She felt the dozens of sword points tugging at the leather underside to her gauntlet, and wasn't surprised that there were a number of small cuts in the tough hide. "Still sharp." Delphine noted idly as she cast her gaze over the hall again. What she was about to do would likely lose her her head if someone caught her.

Taking a breath, Delphine sat down on the Iron Throne and looked down the hall. It was just as uncomfortable as it looked, but she forced herself to lean back and put her hands on the armrests. She wanted to know every sharp edge, to remind herself that they were in a foreign land, fighting to hold it together even as the people on the continent were hell bent to tear it all apart with all of their petty squabbling over the very chair she was sitting in.

"Do you like the Throne, Captain Delphine?" The Blade jumped to her feet when Cersei Lannister seemed to materialize out of thin air. The smug look on her face made Delphine forget her surprise as it was replaced by an urge to knock the Queen's teeth. The urge became that much more difficult to contain when the woman took a step closer, and sneered up into her face. "I could have you executed for this, for taking the seat that is my husband's by right of blood and deed, but I'm not that petty or prone to rash actions. Besides, I can't blame you for sitting down, just to see what real power feels like."

"That chair is only a symbol. While the power behind it is not to be underestimated, it's still just a piece of furniture. It only has meaning because the people give it meaning. Just as the crown is only a symbol of your supposed right to rule."

"_Power_ is power, no matter the form it might take. I could have you killed and no one would question my decision because my power is not questioned by the _loyal _people of this land." Cersei retorted, her smirk turning into a blade thin smile at the challenge to her authority.

"Blind loyalty can be just as dangerous as disobedience, or rebellion." Delphine countered as she glared daggers, her frown only deepening as she towered over the queen. She wasn't so easily cowed, but it didn't bother the Blade. "As for having me killed, far worse opponents have tried and failed. I've survived several assassination attempts, multiple run ins with bandits, and worse over the course of my life. I sleep lightly, your _Grace_, so if you plan to make a move against me or anyone else under my protection, be sure you don't leave me alive, because you won't like my answer."

"You dare threaten me?" Cersei glared right back into Delphine's eyes, not easily shaken, "I'm your Queen, not a common whore who thinks herself a man's equal."

"I dare threaten a woman who thinks herself above everyone simply because of who her family is and her current station. Your crown is only a piece of jewelry, and you bleed like everyone else. You'd be wise to remember that, your Grace." Delphine had been nose to nose with Cersei by the time she had finished speaking, but Cersei stood there, unmoving.

A few tense seconds passed until Cersei gave a small chuckle, and said, "You think yourself powerful now, untouchable, but so did the Reynes-"

"Spare me the story of your father destroying House Reyne, I've heard it before. We aren't arrogant, we don't believe ourselves greater than anyone. But you threaten House Dovahkiin at your own risk, because we aren't without our own powerful allies, or our own means to destroy anyone foolish enough to try." Delphine retorted as she walked away, leaving the Queen to glare cold fury at the Blade's back as she left the main hall. She knew she had made a dangerous enemy who had the sheer numbers to destroy House Dovahkiin many times over, but they had no magical support, no knowledge beyond the little parlor tricks J'zargo had been showing the locals. Besides, if Azura's Star was able to do what she thought it could, they would have one advantage no amount of men on the ground could hope to counter. For now, Delphine made plans to prepare for any underhanded trick the Lannister woman might think up. She hadn't survived Thalmor execution squads by being reckless.

**Flea Bottom.**

J'zargo didn't like the looks the slum dwellers were giving him, but his old Nord friend, Onmund, and Adrianna Avanenici, had insisted on cutting through a short cut that had wound them up in the worst part of the capital. Now they were lost, and there wasn't a guard in sight. While he wasn't afraid exactly, the Khajiit didn't want to have to defend themselves if someone tried to rob them, kill them, or both. "Why does J'zargo get the feeling they're just waiting for us to let our guard down? We need to get out of here."

"Cool your paws J'zargo. We'll be alright, we're mages from the College. And I'm sure our blacksmith friend can handle herself." Onmund replied cheerfully, but Adrianna and J'zargo both saw how he tightened his hold on his staff, which he was using as a makeshift walking stick. There would be no delay in him putting it to use if the need arose since it was already in his hand, another fact they noted despite his easy cheer.

"You both should have taken up Morgonnis' offer to train in the use of something other than those sticks." Adrianna grumbled as her hand fell to the heavy mace on her hip, made of skyforge steel. She had crafted the weapon herself, and it had yet to fail her. The first person that tried to lift her coin purse found his hand crushed in her tanned, heavily calloused hand, while the knife he had used to cut the string tied to her belt clattered to the stone at her feet. "Get a move on, unless you want to lose your other hand, boy." The would be thief took off running, leaving his knife and his pride behind.

"You're a real people person aren't you." J'zargo stated, rolling his eyes at the grunt Adrianna threw his way as they turned a corner. He breathed a little easier as they turned down a street that looked halfway maintained, the houses on either side looking in somewhat good shape compared to the ones they had just left behind.

"After dealing with my fop for a father and the defunct officials that surrounded the Jarl on a daily basis, you would have left what charm you had behind as well." The Redguard retorted, her eyes falling on a group of young children as they ran and cheered around a nearby stone well. Despite the poverty around them, they were at least happy. She almost envied them their innocence. "But it wasn't all bad." Adrianna said after observing the children for a few moments before turning to her two companions. "My father at least had the wisdom to defer to my good judgment, even if the Jarl never knew it."

"You were the brains behind the advisor eh?" Onmund asked, and earned a nod from the blacksmith. "Wonder how he's faring without you?"

"Considering I told the Jarl the truth before we left and that my father was forced to leave his posting as his 'advisor', I think Jarl Balgruuf is doing just fine without him. 'Nord nonsense'." Adrianna spat out, "Giselle told me what he said shortly after she returned from High Hrothgar her first trip, and I almost marched into Dragon Reach then and there. I might be a Redguard, but Skyrim is just as much my home as it is hers. I kept it to myself, but I made sure the truth came out just as we were leaving. Now there's someone actually worth his salt sitting beside Balgruuf."

"Why disgrace your own father though? That's the part I don't get." Onmund asked, puzzled about Adrianna's decision.

"Because Onmund, there's no excuse for not knowing the people you're supposed to be advising. Their beliefs, their traditions, and the fact I turned such a blind eye to his ice brain behavior makes me just as guilty, even if I offered the advice he used while in court. You can't cure stupidity, no matter how good the advice is." Adrianna sighed, and almost walked into a surprisingly tall and well built young boy with the palest blue eyes she had ever seen. "Pardon me."

"It's quite alright miss." The youth said as he took a step back when his gaze fell on J'zargo. "You're one of the folk from Skyrim?"

"We all are." J'zargo replied with a nod of his head.

"Then you best get out of Flea Bottom while you can. Someone might turn you into a rug." The young boy, who couldn't have been older than maybe thirteen, fourteen tops, said as he dusted his hands on his dirty white tunic. His words weren't a threat, just a friendly bit of advice that the Khajiit took to heart.

His two companions weren't so eager to run with their tails between their legs however. Adrianna stopped the boy from running off with a hand on his shoulder. "Who are you?" Something about the boy had intrigued her, and his short, direct answer even as he avoided her intense gaze only intrigued her more.

"Gendry."

_**End Notes; Vergil1989; **__While I'm not thrilled by how a couple of sections turned out, it was what my muse wanted and I couldn't find a way to make them seem….I don't know, more fitting I guess. The whole thing with Renly and Cersei later on just seems bleh, but I couldn't convince my muse otherwise lol. She is about as stubborn as any northerner. In all seriousness though, next chapter things heat up. Enjoy the show folks, it'll be one to remember._

_Real quick before I forget, I want to thank Archer83 and Doctor Eagle for their continued support on this. Thanks guys! Anyway, see ya!_


	11. Proving Grounds

**King's Landing**

**A week later**

"Can I talk to you Giselle?" The dunmer turned from her book and looked up to see Lydia standing at her door. A simple nod was all the permission her Housecarl needed.

"If this is about another brawl between us and the Lannisters-" Giselle started, and was surprised when Lydia chuckled but shook her head at the frustration she heard in her friend's voice. She breathed a little easier at the news, but it didn't improve her mood as she remembered what had transpired over the last several days. While she had expected trouble between the people of Skyrim and the Lannisters, the number of drunken brawls, and where alcohol hadn't been to blame in the slightest, had surprised even her. Twenty men had been injured, with more Lannisters sent to the nearest maesters to be treated for broken bones, on the first day alone. It got to the point that even King Robert, despite his love for a good fight, had stepped in and ordered both his wife and the dunmer to reign in their respective men, or he'd have them all thrown out of the city.

Giselle's thoughts were brought to the present though when Lydia sat across from her at the small table, a grave look on her face. "There's been news, my Thane. Eldria Joroth has brought more Thalmor to the city, to as she claims, participate in the tournament."

"I expected she'd do that." She knew there was far more than a tournament win at stake. Only a fool would believe otherwise. But she knew that wasn't what Lydia had come up to her room to talk about since it wasn't particularly surprising, and it wasn't why she looked so grave. "What's really on your mind my friend?" Giselle asked, hoping to get the Housecarl to open up.

"Lucia." The woman replied quietly, and Giselle had to look away. A lot of people had brought up the same thing after they had heard about her talks with Jon Arryn. "Do you truly mean to go through with this?"

"Honestly?" The dunmer stood from her table and walked to the nearest window. She looked out towards the bustling street below for the longest time before gently shutting the wooden blinds. Lydia followed her example and shut the door while Giselle closed the rest of the windows. Once she was sure they were isolated, only then did she turn to her Housecarl after taking her seat once more. "If we weren't here to stop whatever that Elder Scrolls talked about, I might have come here anyway just so I could destroy the Lannisters. They're the ones that worry me the most. It wouldn't surprise me if the Lannisters started a war with their neighbors the moment someone made the mistake of crossing them."

"But we're not here to destroy the Lannisters." Lydia was quick to point out, perhaps a bit harsher than was required, but her outrage at the whole situation was only matched by Giselle's sorrow.

The bodyguard saw it in Giselle's brown eyes until the dunmer looked away. "I know that Lydia….so to answer your question, I'm only agreeing to this shit because we don't have a choice, not if this threat is anything like Alduin. I don't know how many times I've said that when it was first proposed to me."

"Is it to convince everyone else, or yourself Giselle?" Lydia dared to ask, and wasn't surprised by the angry flash in the dunmer's orbs before it disappeared. The Housecarl walked over to her side and put a hand on her shoulder, drawing Giselle's gaze to her face. "I know you didn't agree to this lightly, I just want to be sure it's for the right reasons."

"That's the problem Lydia, I don't _know _if I'm doing the right thing or not." Giselle replied solemnly, and was surprised to see a flicker of a smile cross her Housecarl's face.

"That just means you're still the person I swore to protect with my life, my Thane." The smile disappeared a moment later, and Lydia crossed her arms. "And while I appreciate your sending Vilkas back, you promised me that you'd keep him close since you refused to keep me at your side."

"And I'm _still _tempted to send you home." Giselle countered as a smirk of her own appeared on her lips as she poked at Lydia's unarmored belly. Lydia slapped her hand away with a roll of her eyes before walking away.

She didn't go far though as she stopped at the door. "I know you better than most Giselle, that's why I didn't come up here the first chance I had. I just wanted to be sure, my Thane."

"I know, and that's why you're one of my closest friends. You knew me before I became the Nordic hero of legend. You saw me at my worst, my highest, and everywhere in between." Lydia nodded her head since Giselle was dead on. She had seen the dunmer throughout most of her time in Skyrim, days after the first dragon was sighted over Helgen. She knew exactly what Giselle was talking about, and left the inn room with those thoughts in mind, leaving Giselle to prepare for the tournaments that were to follow over the next two to three days.

She had a far more important matter to attend to first, Robert could wait, his Oblivion cursed tournament could wait. She needed to make sure Lucia was safe, because Lydia was right to worry about the Thalmor. It wouldn't surprise her if they or the Lannisters tried to hurt her, and if that happened, Giselle would come back to the capital with a vengeance. Giselle instinctively knew that if something happened to Lucia she would return and raze the whole city to the ground. Normally, she could control her dragon soul, but if there was one thing that both sides of her agreed on, it was that blood could only be repaid in blood. And this instinct was only amplified if someone she considered family was affected.

It was that thought that guided her to Mathias, and a couple of the new recruits that had come out of the new Sanctuary underneath their home in Westeros. He and the two new assassins were situated at one of the distant tables in the main hall. She didn't wait for an invitation as she sat down. She passed along a simple note to the Westerosi recruit and his two new companions. He only nodded his head when he read the note before crumbling it in his hand. "It'll be done." He replied, and his two friends only nodded their heads.

"Burn that note. No evidence." She intoned, and again they only nodded before the three stood from the table and went to prepare for their new task. She trusted the other two, but she didn't trust Mathias just yet. Gabriella had raised a good point the last time they had talked. Lord Varys had done a lot for Mathias and others like him, and despite Varys's promises to help them, he hadn't made his loyalties a secret. His loyalties were to the realm, and if he considered the people of Skyrim a threat, then chances were good he'd engineer a way to destroy them. Mathias had been one of his little birds before he had changed sides, under duress no less. Giselle was no fool, but she had no one else that knew the capital better.

She hoped by having him sent with two of her own people, Mathias would always have eyes on him that _she _trusted, on the off chance that he jumped back into Varys's good graces. The Dark Brotherhood had eyes and ears everywhere in Tamriel, it was past time that tradition held true in this world. Thankfully, Serana's enthralled, which were growing steadily the more people she 'enticed', could be asked to do whatever they required, so they had a good start in that regard at least. Since they were loyal only to the elder vampire, no amount of torture, bribes, or intimidation could hope to turn them now, making them the perfect spies.

Still, Giselle wasn't taking chances. Delphine's admission regarding her last confrontation with Cersei had her wondering what the Queen might pull. The dragonbone daggers she kept in her boots, as well as the dragonbone swords on her armor covered hips, were never far from her reach. Everyone in her company had received the same speech, and as she looked around the hall of the inn, she was reassured by the assortment of weapons and those in armor everyone had on their person. Axes to swords, iron all the way up to dragonplate, no one was going anywhere without at least one favored weapon on hand. For all of their preparation though, Giselle still wondered if they were truly ready for whatever came their way. _Or maybe you're looking for shadows where there aren't any?_

Whatever the case, she and most of her Dragonguard started towards the tourney grounds after they had had a hearty breakfast. She knew one thing for certain though, the abominably hot weather was starting to annoy her to no end. She missed the cold and the snows of Skyrim, something she hadn't thought she'd ever admit to herself as she shielded her eyes for a moment as she and the rest of her friends stepped outside. "I'm starting to hate the weather down here."

"You aren't the only one Dovahkiin." Delphine stated as she wiped at her brow with the back of her gauntlet covered hand. Even with that ring Giselle had given her, the Akaviri warrior still wasn't faring well in the heat. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm half tempted to strip naked and let their assassins find me in the skin the gods gave me."

"There's a sight I'd pay to say." Farkas chuckled in response, even as Delphine turned around and punched him in the stomach, hard. He still grinned from ear to ear, even as he bent slightly at the waist from the sucker punch. "That was a compliment you know."

"I know. I have a reputation to maintain though." Delphine countered as they approached the gates that would lead them to the tourney grounds. Despite the long walk, they had foregone their horses, hoping to keep attention of their passages to a minimum this time, even though most of them had seats among the rest of the nobles. "Besides, you'll be the last person that sees me outside my armor."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Serana replied, her hand tucked under her chin while her other held her elbow. She shot the dirty blonde a playful grin when Delphine glared daggers at her. "Veezara." Was her only explanation. Delphine scoffed but rolled her eyes when she realized where the vampire was going with her line of thought. "Just be glad _someone _sent him and Nazir to find our lost friends."

They all nodded at that and left the topic be for the rest of the walk to the tourney grounds. It wasn't until they reached the gates that they hit their first obstacle of the day when Giselle spotted J'zargo and Onmund being harassed by Lannister guards. She sighed and put her hand against her forehead in frustration. It seemed someone had ignored the King's orders not to start trouble between the two disparate people. Lannister pride knew no bounds, but just as she was about to step in, the two mages took care of the problem themselves. One second, the two crimson cloaked guards were standing tall, smug smirks on their faces, the next, one was clutching at his crotch when J'zargo's staff slammed between his legs before he hit the ground when the Khajiit slammed the other end against the back of his head. Onmund had since jabbed his jewel capped staff into the other guard's neck before sweeping his feet out from under him. The guards were out cold long before they hit the ground.

"Sleeping lions are so cute." Onmund chuckled, but his smile disappeared when his eyes fell on Giselle and her entourage. "Uh….hey Giselle. Fancy seeing you here."

"Explain." Giselle said simply. She was more than an fed up with all the unnecessary conflicts between the Lannisters and her own people. Though she supposed she shouldn't be surprised by the increased number of brawls. Many armed men combined with alcohol would have that effect. She had seen more than her fair share of idiots while traveling through Skyrim alone, and like many things, the people in Westeros were no different.

"Well, we decided to walk through town for a bit on such a _magnificent _morning, just minding our business, when we noticed these two rather drunken lions who were bothering these lovely ladies over there." Onmund said and pointed to a group of women who seemed to try their best to be invisible without running away. "So we decided to step in, they took offense to that, and well, you saw the rest."

Giselle sighed heavily and rubbed at her forehead. "Let's just get through the day without killing anyone. I'll be happy about that at this rate." The two mages offered hurried apologies, but Giselle didn't hear them as she pushed them out of her way.

No further incidents occurred as they were lead to their seats across from the royal box seats on the other side of the field. It gave her and the rest of her people a straight shot at King Robert, Queen Cersei, and their Kingsguard as well as the royal children. To Giselle's slight surprise though, Lucia was sitting with Jon Arryn and his squire, Hugh, a young boy a few years older than the Nord girl at his side. When their eyes met, Lucia smiled from ear to ear and waved a little before turning to Jon. Giselle watched the pair and was reassured by how easily they seemed to be around each other now. It seemed Lucia's impassioned speech that first day had done a lot to endear the old soldier to her side after all.

Turning away from the royal box seats, Giselle crossed her arms and looked towards her fellows just as the first two riders come charging down the field. "Have you ever seen a joust before Lady Morgonnis?" The dunmer tried to hide her disdain for Petyr Baelish as he leaned forward from the previously empty seat and gave her one of his customary grins. "Quite a spectacle, and for us, a way to gauge the skills of the respective knights about to engage each other for honor and glory. The hefty winner's purse is also a great incentive."

"You call this a spectacle, but I call this a waste of time." Giselle countered, even as the two knights crashed into each other with a thunderous pounding of hooves and splintering wood when their lances collided against the other man's shield. The impact was violent, but both knights rode off to their starting positions, no clear winner able to be determined in that first ride down the field. The dunmer was unimpressed, and waved her hand dismissively. "You call this a tournament of honor and glory for those that participate, more for the one that wins, yet all I see are two grown men trying to knock the other man off his horse with a giant stick. True battle is not a game. In a real conflict, they'd drop like flies."

"No imagination." Petyr said with a chuckle. "Not all battles are won with brute force or skill of arms Giselle. You might learn more from this than you think."

Aela was quick to join the conversation as she looked towards Petyr. "When warriors in Skyrim cross their blades, they either do so to improve their skill, or to kill. There is no middle ground for us." There was a little more to it than that, but she wasn't about to argue over such a trivial matter with the dung of the capital.

If he heard the open scorn in the Huntress's voice, Lord Baelish didn't react to it. "Like the Game of Thrones." Petyr countered, leaving the Dragonguard and their leader to ponder his keen observation.

He left just as Vilkas, Farkas, Lydia, and several others arrived. Farkas stopped Lydia from taking her seat, and dusted it off, erasing Baelish's presence. "Wouldn't want your pup to be tainted by that snake's presence."

"Thank you for your concern." Lydia chuckled, and sat down as the riders came at each other again. This time, one lost his saddle when his opponent's lance slammed into his helmeted head, knocking the rider quite literally head over heels before he fell to the dirt, hard. "For a game for the nobles, these jousts are vicious my Thane." Giselle said nothing, but she nodded her head in reluctant agreement. Petyr was right about one thing, this entire city was full of vicious individuals, fighting for something that would ultimately destroy them.

The next two days were an exercise in patience. By the time it was over, even Farkas had grown bored with the stupidity of men whacking each other with long pieces of decorated wood, and was one of the first to start cheering when it was finally over when Jamie Lannister was unhorsed by a knight from the Reach. She had lost track of the names long ago, and wasn't about to start trying to remember them now. The archery competition at least was a little more exciting, especially since Aela handedly defeated the rest of the tournament's participants with a shot from two-hundred and fifty yards. Twenty thousand gold dragons richer, Aela was smiling from ear to ear the rest of the day.

Then came the day of the grand melee.

Over a hundred knights from every corner of the realm were assembled, astride their horses, dressed in their best armor, carrying weapons properly dulled to avoid permanent injury. At least, that was the rule, but that didn't stop the occasional accident from happening during such an event.

Astride Shadowsmere, an old pair of skyforge straight swords on her hips, one of the first blades she had ever crafted by her own hand, Giselle turned to Farkas and Delphine who flanked her on their own horses. Farkas was predictably grinning from ear to ear, having been eagerly awaiting a chance to test his blade against the best Westeros had to offer. Delphine was frowning, she was only here to keep the dovahkiin safe. As for Giselle herself, she couldn't lie, she wanted to be here. She wanted to be in the thick of battle again. For her, it was a good way to release all of her frustration, all of her pent up rage, partially from her dragon blood which craved the same thing her dragon brothers and sisters wished, but also because of who she had once been. Some habits never died, and she had always craved a good fight. Only the reasons had changed since her early days as a mercenary. Now, she was a true warrior that fought for more than her personal amusement, to fall by an enemy's hand because it had hurt too much to live with the loss of her parents.

As the final opponents arrived on the field, Giselle ran a hand across her black horse's mane, giving her noble steed a reassuring pat on her flank. Shadowsmere tossed her head but seemed the calmest of them all, a fitting trait for a horse given to her by Sithis himself, or so Astrid had claimed in her indirect way. "What do you think of our opponents?" Giselle asked, her eyes sweeping the hundred and twenty other men that were arriving. Her eyes narrowed when she saw three Thalmor warriors ride into the distance, wearing the bronzed elven armor of their homeland. With any luck, someone else would take them down before they became a problem.

"Appearance wise? Most look the part of men ready for war." Delphine began, but Farkas and Giselle didn't need her to give voice to the rest of her thought. They wore the armor of their respective homes or what they could afford, everything from simple boil leather to richly decorated and engraved platemail. They carried weapons also appropriate to their station, but appearances weren't everything. Even as they looked on from their high hill, they saw a man wave his hand along the length of his blade, and green flames sprouted along the steel. "He'll be a danger. Most horses won't go near fire." Luckily for them, Skyrim horses were not most horses.

"Thoros of Myr." Farkas intoned, and the hungry look in the Nord's face told the other two where he'd be going the first chance he had. "He was the first through the breach during the siege of Pyke during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion. He's mine."

"You're welcome to him." Giselle replied, and wasn't surprised by the feral grin he threw her way. "I have my eyes on bigger prey." They followed her gaze to the Barristan Selmy, a small, gracious smile on his graying bearded face. He had approached her last night, during the second feast of the tournament, and had asked her if she were attending. Giselle had at first said no, but she had changed her mind when the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had said he'd be there. To test her skill against the best they had was too tempting an opportunity for the dunmer, and she had changed her tune almost immediately. Selmy had laughed and wished her good fortune, and now here she was, ready to cross blades with the man.

"I also have prey I plan to hunt down _Dovahkiin_." Delphine said, and neither Farkas or Giselle were that surprised when they followed her narrowed gaze and saw the gold gilded armored Jaime Lannister, his smug smirk plastered on his face despite his recent loss in the jousts. The black armored Hound, Sandor Clegane, was at his side, but they barely looked at each other. "We have an advantage they don't." When her two companions looked at her, Delphine explained. "Look at them. They can barely stand to be next to each other. But we trust each other implicitly, and there are few others I'd rather have at my side."

"We have our own Ebonheart Pact." Giselle stated, drawing a surprised gasp from Delphine. She merely smiled at her friend's reaction. "Your people might have been enemies of Tamriel once upon a time, but the Akaviri have changed since those ancient days. And there are few others I'd rather have at my side as well Delphine. We might not have always seen eye to eye, but the Blades will always be considered friends." The woman could only smile in thanks as the clouds parted and the sun was revealed. The battle was about to begin, and on the trumpeter's blast, they drew their blades as one.

**Skyrim Combat Music 1, 2 or 4. I'd go with 4.**

Cheers echoed across the hill and across the open field, but the loudest of the calls to their native homes were to the cold and snow covered lands of Skyrim. Giselle led the charge of her Ebonheart, fire in her eyes as she expertly twirled her twin steel blades, Shadowsmere seeming to fly down the hill as she came into melee range with a knight from the Reach, a yellow rose on a green background emblazoned on his shield. He fell first when she knocked his shield to the side and promptly slammed her blades on the backswing against his back on her way by.

The man was trampled by Delphine's steed, where he lay moaning in the torn grass. "For the Dragonborn!" Delphine had since engaged two more, her curved blade making short work of another wielding a mace before turning to a second, ducking when the man's long sword whistled over her head at the last moment. He didn't have time to try again when she clipped him with her fist, his steel helmet resounding with the powerful punch to the side of his head before she brought her sword to bear against his neck. A solid crack followed, and he too was driven from his saddle, clutching at his bruised throat.

"For the Companions! For Ysgramor! For Sovngarde!" With every yell, Farkas struck down another knight as he brought his greatsword to bear. True to form, Farkas was the first to swing his horse away from their group and made a beeline for the mad priest from Myr with his flaming sword. The Companion gave a feral howl, spooking man and horse alike as his greatsword cleared a path for the mighty warrior, knocking men to the ground wherever his aim was true. Even when someone managed to land a hit, the powerful hunter scarcely slowed down save to grab the offender by the front of his throat and bodily throw him from the saddle. "Come on you milk drinkers! Come on!" Farkas roared in challenge, until at last, Thoros turned to meet the berserk charge head on.

When their blades met, sparks flew in every direction, and for a moment, it looked as if Farkas would come out ahead, but to the Companion's surprise, Thoros of Myr wasn't without his tricks. He grabbed a fistful of flames from his own sword and shoved his flame wreathed hand against his bearded face, forcing Farkas back to beat out the fire in his hair. It was all the opening the mad priest needed as he broke their lock and proceeded to rain down blow after blow, forcing the Companion back. If not for the skyforge steel used in his greatsword, the blade would have withered and eventually broke under the furious assault. Farkas growled, half his beard gone from the man's clever trick, but eventually was forced down from his saddle when Thoros pushed his sword to the side and brought his sword's hilt down hard on the top of his helmeted head, hard enough that his helmet was dented and Farkas was dazed. A simple smack to the side of his head from the flat of Thoros's flaming sword was all it took after that.

Giselle and Delphine were too busy to notice, save to see the flaming sword moving like a slaughterfish through the mass of armored men in the distance. "Farkas lost?" She asked, surprised, even as she grunted and slammed her dragon helm covered head into a man's face, shattering his nose like a ripe cherry.

"They aren't as soft as we thought!" Delphine shouted back as she slammed her mailed hand into another man's side and followed that with a double handed slash across his stomach. The powerful swing had him in the dirt a moment later before she brought her blade across her chest sideways when another knight tried to unseat her. He didn't get a chance when one of the three Thalmor came up from behind him and knocked him from the saddle. "Thalmor!" Delphine shouted as she brought her blade up to block the overhead strike the elven warrior brought to bear.

"I have one here as well!" Giselle growled through her teeth as she blocked with one blade and defended with the other as her opponent did the same. The double blade style wasn't particularly common, except in places like Hammerfell and among the Forsworn that called Skyrim home, but Giselle wasn't familiar with the Thalmor using such a technique. This honorless bastard was proving a more difficult opponent than most as their blades danced and clashed against the other as they circled each other on horseback. "Who are you and where did you learn to fight like this?!"

"I don't answer to you dunmer whore." The man retorted as he brought his blades to bear with malicious glee. Giselle's reply was straight to the point as she knocked his blades wide to both sides before crossing them at his throat. He didn't get a chance to beg as she crushed his windpipe between her swords with a yell. The Thalmor pig was one of the few deaths on the field that day.

Delphine finished her own opponent about the same time as she threw her blade into the air after knocking her enemy's blade from his hand, caught her katana by the hilt, and promptly smashed it against the Thalmor's face repeatedly until he fell from his saddle as well. Flipping the blade back over with a skilled twist of her wrist, Delphine nodded her grim approval of her Dovahkiin's handiwork before riding off to find her next opponent.

"Your mother is quite a skilled warrior Lucia." Jon stated as he watched the field as intently as the girl at his side from another royal box that had been set up on another tall hill that overlooked the entire area. Even as he spoke, the dark skinned woman was busy with two more opponents, her blades a blur as she easily countered and unseated another knight, this one from the Vale itself. He winced when his horse took off, trampling the man under hoof. The second knight, a young hedge knight from House Dustin, didn't have any more luck as he soon found out when the dunmer brought her hilts smashing against both sides of his head.

Lucia merely grinned from ear to ear at Jon's praise. "She's the best warrior of our homeland Lord Arryn." She stated, as if it should have been obvious from the start. Jon merely chuckled and had to nod at the simple truth the girl had revealed since the evidence was plain as day for them to see.

"Hah! Look at those two go! A hundred gold dragons says the Kingslayer's knocked on his ass!" Robert bellowed, earning him an annoyed scoff from Cersei, who, despite her distaste for the entire business, had remained throughout the tournament from the start.

"That would not be a fair bet your grace." Jon stated simply, earning him an annoyed curse from the King.

"I'll take that bet." All eyes fell on Lucia.

Robert blinked once before grabbing at his belly and doubling over as deep guffaws escaped him. "You're a brave lass! She's got more sense than the lot of you whores and she's only what, nine?!"

"I'm ten your Grace." Lucia replied, a beaming smile on her face as Robert laughed cheerfully again and waved his finger at her.

"Ha! So you are girl. Done, a hundred gold dragons to see the Kingslayer knocked on his golden ass by your Blade friend." Robert declared, and his grin only widened at the next words out of the girl's mouth.

"A hundred on my mother. I would never bet against my family." Lucia stated proudly with a firm nod of her head.

"A wise policy dear girl." Tyrion added with a chuckle as he looked across the royal box and met Lucia's charming smile. Even if she were betting against his brother, he didn't mind in the slightest. From what he had seen of the dunmer's skill, he had every confidence that her wager was placed with wisdom and absolute faith in the dark skinned woman's abilities. Her stamina seemed endless, her skill flawless, and her determination was only matched by her quick, precise strikes. Delphine wasn't half bad either as she demonstrated a skill with her seemingly unwieldy weapon that put some of their best knights to shame. It wasn't until he turned to Cersei and saw her not so subtle smirk that Tyrion wondered if the day's melee wasn't going to see a couple more deaths before it was over.

Barristan Selmy had hung back at the edge of the field, conserving his strength, and gauging his opponents' skills from afar. It became quickly apparent who the most dangerous of the day's opponents were as Lady Morgonnis and her two companions took down anyone foolish enough to get in their way. He saw how easily the dunmer moved, even restrained to horseback as she was, how quickly she adjusted her parries and counters as the need arose. She was almost without equal, without peer, and all of the stories he had heard of her ability were becoming all too true. Barristan could only chuckle when his eyes caught an infuriated Farkas in the distance as he grabbed a passing horse's reins, brought the animal to heel, and took off after Thoros with renewed vigor. The mad priest didn't get a second chance as the Companion rode him down with a cry of Ysgramor on his lips. Thoros's flaming sword shattered when Farkas brought his great sword down on the man's shoulder, tossing the man from his saddle like a rag doll.

His distraction almost cost him when the third Thalmor rode in, shield poised to slam into his face on his way by. Selmy was prepared as he made his horse rise up onto its hind legs, stopping the elven man's attempted charge dead as he was forced to pull on his reins and bring his shield up to defend his face from the horse's flailing hooves. By the time the Thalmor had put some distance between himself and Selmy's animal, the battle had turned in the older man's favor as he brought his sword down on the Thalmor's battered shield once, twice, and a third before he knocked his weakened shield arm aside and knocked his enemy's blade from his hand with a skilled strike across his fingers. Stunned, battered, and without a weapon, the Thalmor could only sigh as Selmy brought his blade down in a blur of steel. He never saw the ground rushing up to meet him, nor did he hear Selmy's amused response. "May the Warrior bless your arm the next time we meet."

"And may Ysgramor give you better eyesight." Selmy only had time for one block before Giselle brought to bear her second blade across his back. Stunned, he offered the dunmer a counter that had her right sword arm numb from their clash, but where he was the best with a single sword, she was better with two. He found that out the hard way as she battered him senseless with her left hand blade until the numbness bled out of her right. By then, Selmy had another problem as Delphine joined in their combined assault, and three powerful swings later, he was finished as they bodily pushed him from his saddle. Shadowsmere even joined in the fray as she stepped on Selmy's shoulder, a just audible crack followed by a grunt of pain as the black horse dislocated the knight's sword arm at the shoulder.

"Clever horse! Almost as smart as you!" Jaime Lannister roared as he grabbed Delphine's ponytail and tried to pull her from her saddle while bringing his sword to bear in a downward thrust to her exposed neck. She growled and grabbed his blade just above the tip and directed it against her chestplate, where the superior forged metal stopped it cold.

"Nice try Lannister!" Delphine retorted as she slammed her elbow into his chin, freeing herself from his underhanded trick before spinning in her saddle. With her hands tightly wrapped around the hilt, her swing had twice the amount of power behind it as she snapped her katana across his back. The sheer force of the blow staggered the proud Lannister as if he had been hit by a mammoth. He didn't know what hurt more, the Blade's shattered blade against his back, or the dark elf's follow up attack when she brought both of her swords across his chest.

Robert yelled in approval even as he dug into his belt and pulled out a small coin purse for Lucia. "You're smarter than ya look girl. Don't spend it all in one place." The King said with another great laugh as he tossed the leather pouch over to the beaming child.

"It's not over yet dear husband." Cersei muttered under her breath. Tyrion was the only one that heard his sister's words and again wondered what foul trick she might have cooked up. He had his answer when the Hound charged in, silent as a ghost, and brought his sword across the Blade's throat on his way by. Giselle had yet to notice as she fought off two Lannister knights at the same time, but Tyrion knew she was dead before she hit the ground from the crimson fountain that poured from her throat.

"Dear gods sister, what have you done?" Tyrion gasped as he looked to Lucia's face and saw the astonishment and dawning horror. He was quick to realize that her horror wasn't for the crime that had just been committed, but for what was about to happen when Giselle turned in her saddle and saw the Hound's sword, the tip of which was unusually sharp for a melee. The fact it was covered in the blood of her friend came a moment later.

Lucia knew what was coming, as did Farkas, but neither one of them felt like sharing just what was about to happen. The dragonborn was about to unleash her fury, and they had a front row seat. "Gut that honorless bastard Harbinger!" Farkas roared at the top of his lungs.

"Mama!" Lucia cried, but her voice went unheeded over the roar of the crowd. Only Jon heard her, and instinctively pulled her against his chest. He had a feeling that whatever was about to happen, it wasn't going to be a clean or quick death, and he did the only thing he could. He shielded Lucia from the sight, but it was a moot gesture, as he was about to find out.

The Hound didn't know he was a dead man until he saw the flames pouring out of the woman's mouth. "_**YOL TOOR SHUL!**_" His eyes bulged out of his scarred head as the flames, summoned from the last place he ever expected to see, washed over him and his horse. No one knew who screamed louder, animal or man as both frantically tried to put out the fire that had washed over them like a wave. In the end, it didn't matter as Sandor Clegane was crushed under his terror stricken horse, and was left to roast in his armor. He met his gods covered in his own shit and piss, what was left of his face by the times the flames began to die down locked in an expression of absolute terror. He died like a dog, screaming and covered in his own filth.

Giselle watched him burn, her face locked in a mask of vengeful fury. It wasn't until Farkas put a hand on her leg that she jerked and came back to the present. Every eye was on her. She ignored them as she jumped from her saddle, her body covered in bruises, but she hardly noticed as she knelt by Delphine's body. Farkas needed no prompting as they unceremoniously pushed the other groaning men away from her and cleared a space around the Blade. Falling to her knees, she hardly noticed as Lucia ran up to her and put her hands to her mouth when her eyes fell on the woman's grievous slash that ran the length of the right side of her neck. Serana, Lydia, and the rest of the Dragonguard soon joined them, but Giselle hardly noticed or cared as she looked up to the royal box and towards Cersei Lannister. Cersei's self satisfied smirk was all the answer Giselle needed to know what had happened, and who had ordered it.

Serana saw it too, and stopped Giselle from executing the Queen then and there by slamming her fist across her lover's jaw. She went down like a bag of rotten apples. The Dragonguard didn't question the action as the vampire bade them to get Delphine and Giselle out of the field as quickly as possible. She stayed, but not before hugging Lucia and telling her to go back to Jon for now. The girl only nodded her head and slowly walked back to the royal box. Serana slowly stood to her feet and let her golden eyes sweep across their faces one by one. "Remember what you've seen here. Remember, and know that you have made a mistake that you will live to regret. You will rue the day you killed one of House Dovahkiin's!" She let her unnaturally cold gaze linger on the Queen, and just about gave into the urge to send an ice spike through her face before she turned on her heel and seemed to disappear the very next moment.

It was only a few seconds later that the vampire reappeared next to the Dragonguard, who silently walked out of the field ahead of the rest of those that had come for the tournament. No one was brave enough to stop the sons and daughters of Skyrim, not even King Robert was stupid enough to get in their way as they left without waiting for a winner to be called. No one cared that the ten thousand gold dragons wound up going to some man from Winterfell who had gotten extremely lucky in his choice of opponents. But the victory was a hollow one, even to him as he and several others from the north lands fell in with those from Skyrim as they left the field behind. They weren't staying, not after this. That message was heard loud and clear without a word being said between them.

They stayed long enough in the inn to prepare Delphine's body for transport back to the Rills. They cleaned her and her battle scarred armor, they reforged her sword with Adrianna and her new apprentice's help, a young man by the name Gendry, and they filed out of the city in silence three days later. The only stop Giselle made was to the Tower of the Hand the morning of their departure.

Vardis was standing at the door and immediately moved out of her way without a word. She didn't give him a second look as she embraced Lucia tightly in her arms. Silent tears were exchanged between them, and while Jon was the only occupant in the room, he might as well have been nonexistent. "Do you still want to stay Lucia? In this nest of vipers?" Giselle asked point blank as she led the girl to the balcony overlooking a practice yard below.

"Yes." The dunmer looked down at the girl in surprise, and before she could try and dissuade her, Lucia beat her to the punch. "If you take me back now, we'll be no better than they are." Lucia all but shouted, her brown eyes blazing with sorrow and anger from the whole situation. Giselle's reply was to punch the red sandstone pillar in front of her, her bare knuckles cracking from the force of her strike. The warm, small hand on her side drew the dunmer's gaze down, and the hardness around her hazel orbs softened as she knelt so she and Lucia were eye to eye. "I'll write letters every week mama, I promise. If something happens, you'll be the first to know." She promised as she wrapped her arms around the woman's neck.

Giselle all but crushed her against her chest and buried her face against Lucia's neck. "Gods Lucia, you've become so strong." It was only when they pulled apart and the dunmer brushed her fingers through the child's, no, the young woman's hair, that she spoke again. "_Every _week Lucia. I don't care if the raven's delayed because of a hurricane, I'm tearing this city down until I find you again."

"I know you will." Lucia softly replied without hesitation or a shred of doubt.

Giselle slowly stood to her feet and only then acknowledged Jon's presence. "Don't worry Lady Morgonnis, no one will hear your promise from me. I don't doubt it in the slightest, and only a fool would do so. What I will say is this." At this, Jon closed the distance between them so that they were eye to eye. "I know you have no faith in King Robert, but he is like a son to me Lady Morgonnis. He might be a great fool, but he's my fool. He's a good man at his core, and I won't have him harmed. I will have your word, here and now, that you won't be the first in line."

Most people wouldn't have dared to make such a demand, and if Jon had asked her to spare the Queen, she would have gladly slit his throat ear to ear, their deal and her honor be damned. Instead, the Dragonborn only nodded her head curtly before leaving the Tower with all speed. If not for Serana waiting for her right outside, she might have been tempted to make another stop that would have seen Cersei with a new smile around her throat. "Not today Giselle. Not today." Giselle only sighed and didn't even so much as nod since it was the same thing that the vampire had been saying when she had woken up in her bed back at the inn.

"Did you talk to them?" Serana simply nodded her head in reply. "Good." Was all the dunmer said as they rejoined their people.

**The Tower of the Hand**

That night, when her mama and everyone she had ever known swept out of the city in silence, she awoke in her bed, alone and cold and hating the city with a passion that would have made her mother's dragon soul seem pale by comparison. Despite her intense hatred of King's Landing and what it had taken from them already, she hadn't lied when she had told her mother that she had wanted to stay. She knew, as limited as her own understanding was of why they were there, of what was at stake if they failed. Only she would know the truth, especially now that Delphine, one of her best friends, was gone.

Her thoughts were interrupted however when three dark clothed shadows pulled away from the walls, from a secret entrance by the right side of her bed. Lucia knew who they were long before they pulled their hoods away. "Lucia of Whiterun." The leader intoned, soft as a breeze through the curtains, and the girl nodded and met the cold, murderous glare and held it. The Dark Brotherhood assassin nodded his approval before turning to his compatriots, Mathias and a young red headed woman of sixteen, seventeen tops. "We are to be your guardians. Your mother has ordered us to protect you at any cost."

Lucia's reply was direct and to the point, even if she didn't believe in their dark god. "Hail Sithis." The three shadows that were to become her silent blades in the dark replied the same. She went to sleep minutes later, a small, satisfied smile on her own face. The people of King's Landing weren't the only one that had tricks up their sleeves. Her three guards disappeared the same way they came, leaving no trace of their presence until the next morning as three corpses were discovered in the water off the docks of the city. No one knew, not even Varys, why someone would go out of their way to kill a simple stable hand, a scullery maid, and a castle steward. Lucia knew, but she wasn't about to say a word as replacements were found. No one questioned the fact that their gazes lingered on Jon Arryn's new foster child anytime she passed.

**End Notes;** _This chapter kicked my ass for the longest time. My grandmother died a couple weeks ago, so that kind of put a damper on my muse when it came to this story, but I have finally found my way back to Westeros and the motley assortment of heroes and villains I've established for this story. Hopefully I haven't lost my touch lol. At any rate, see ya guys next time!_


	12. A Throw of the Dice

**King's Landing, the Red Keep**

**The Queen's chambers**

Tyrion had waited a couple of days, to let his sister think he hadn't noticed that she had had one of House Dovahkiin murdered in cold blood. He had wanted her to enjoy her victory, as hollow as it would no doubt one day become. He wasn't stupid, not by a long shot, and knew that Lady Morgonnis and her people would pay them back in kind one day. The Hound, Sandor Clegane, would only be the first. Even now, his blood turned to ice as he recalled the absolute terror on the Hound's face as his flesh melted off of his bones when Giselle called fire to her lips, sending him to the seven hells, screaming like the dog he had styled himself after. He had never really liked Sandor, but he hadn't hated him either. But to see someone die like that, Tyrion knew he couldn't have been the only one that still woke up with nightmares of the man's last moments on that field.

Taking a breath to steady himself, it wouldn't do to show weakness in front of his sister, Tyrion sighed heavily as he pushed the door open to Cersei's chambers. He wasn't surprised to see Jaime there, his entire chest and back wrapped in bandages from the sound beating he had received from Giselle and the slain Delphine. A maester was nearby, finishing his task of tending to his brother's injuries. "Little brother, come to gloat?" Jaime asked, a small smile on his face despite the pain he was surely in. He had sustained at least two cracked and bruised ribs, a number of bruises across his back, and he had a noticeable limp from falling off of his horse. If not for the armor he had been wearing, Tyrion was sure that Delphine could have broken his brother's back when she snapped her blade against him.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Tyrion looked to his brother with a mixture of relief and sympathy, but the look came and went so fast it might as well not have been there. They were Lannisters, they didn't show weakness so easily. "Not today Jaime. Although I must admit, seeing you humbled does bring a smile to my lips." Jaime merely chuckled and pulled his shirt down when the maester started for the door.

"Fucking bitch had the strength of an auroch, I've been told I was lucky she didn't break my back. Be glad you never got a chance to learn how to fight Tyrion, I'd hate to have to put you in a small hole." It was Tyrion's turn to chuckle as he wandered to his sister's table, which was laden with a glass bottle of summerwine and a bowl of fruit, as well as a half eaten plate of bacon, fish, and bread covered in honey. He helped himself to the wine as Jaime stood up from his spot on the bed, and Tyrion was again reminded on how lucky he truly was to still have him when he saw the limp in Jaime's step. The fact he held his hand against his side didn't help matters, but Jaime put on a brave face as he all but collapsed into the vacant seat across the table while Tyrion took the one in front of him. "I take it you have business with Cersei." Jaime stated rather than asked.

"Straight to the point." Tyrion replied and nodded his head. He had hoped to surprise Cersei, but Jaime had ruined that by being here. Still, the situation wasn't entirely lost. With Robert gone hunting for the next three days or so, Cersei was vulnerable, and Tyrion could surprise her when he wished. "It's nothing pressing dear brother, but if you do see her, don't let her know I'm coming? Let's just say she'll appreciate what I have to say if she doesn't have any warning beforehand." Jaime only nodded, and Tyrion knew that he'd do what he ask since he wasn't stupid either. Impatient, reckless, arrogant like any Lannister, but he wasn't stupid. He most likely suspected the same thing Tyrion knew for a certainty. House Dovahkiin would return, and the sooner Cersei realized what she had done by having the Hound kill one of them in the middle of the King's Name Day tournament for the world to see, the better. Who better to deliver that message than him, the one she hated with every fiber of her being?

He understood why she did it. By having the world bear witness to the death, it showed them that House Dovahkiin's warriors bled like the rest of them, their extraordinary abilities and gods given magic be damned. However, he also knew that Cersei had taken Delphine's lecture regarding her position as Queen and how tenuous her rule truly was personally, and had had her dealt with in the worst way possible. By waiting a few days to deliver his own warning, the joy from her actions would have had time to cool off, and Tyrion hoped, Cersei would remember how the Hound had fallen. If she didn't, if she had willfully forgotten, he'd remind her.

Leaving Jaime's side and the Queen's chambers, Tyrion waddled off. He supposed he could check on Lucia and see how she was doing. The loss had hit her hard according to Jon Arryn, and she wasn't eating or sleeping as easily as she had been before. That seemed to be contagious since Tyrion had found his own appetite had been hindered somewhat by the sight of a man being burned alive in his armor. The fact those same flames had poured out of a woman's throat didn't help his sleep any.

While her mother was a potential enemy, he knew Giselle wouldn't do anything stupid either. She wouldn't charge into King's Landing alone, no matter how powerful she was. She'd wait, bide her time until she had mustered an army large enough to sweep aside anything in her path. At least, that's what Tyrion hoped as he made his way to the main hall. He honestly didn't know what she was capable of, none of them did, and it wasn't just her Tyrion was worried about. Every man and woman from Skyrim were dangerous, some most definitely more than others, and despite what the advisors to the King and the realm thought otherwise, saying that their mages were adept charlatans, that they weren't as honorable as they claimed and that they had somehow cheated during the melee, Tyrion considered them just as dangerous as their leader.

His thoughts were interrupted as he saw Jon Arryn, his wife with baby Rickon at her breast, and Lucia as well as most of the court as the Hand attended to some poor sod from some field outside the capital. Tyrion had other fish to fry as he waddled past the crowd of fools and towards the girl. "Lady Arryn, might I have a word with your young charge?"

"Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of me, Imp." Lysa snapped back, glaring coldly down on him. Not a hard feat, but Tyrion was in no mood for her temper.

Thankfully, Lucia walked away from Lysa and bade Tyrion to follow. Lady Arryn looked ready to protest, but a subtle look from Jon silenced her on the spot. Tyrion smiled, gave her a short, mocking bow, and turned on his heel as he did his best to keep up with the tall girl of ten. Only after they had left the main hall and had entered one of the side passages that ran the length of the Red Keep did Lucia slow down and turn to her short escort. He was grateful for her consideration as he stared up into her brown eyes for a moment before addressing her. "I came to see how you were settling in."

"You came to see how I was doing after mama killed the Hound." Tyrion mentally kicked himself for forgetting Lucia was smarter than her age suggested.

"Quite." He said at last with a simple nod of his head. "I've heard that you haven't been sleeping so well Lucia. I must admit, I haven't been doing so well either. It's not everyday you see someone cooked in their armor." It was Lucia's turn to only nod as Tyrion folded his arms over his small stomach. "I'm sure Grand Maester Pycelle would give you something to help you sleep dear child if you asked. If you want I can go see him for you."

"No, thank you m'lord."

"Please, must I remind you to call me Tyrion?" Tyrion asked, and was relieved by the small giggle the girl let escape her. _She hasn't forgotten how to smile, that's good._ "Good, we got that cleared up. Now, would you do _me _a favor?" When Lucia cocked her head to the side in curiosity, Tyrion offered her a genuinely warm smile. "If you ever wish to talk to someone about, well, anything Lucia, have someone send for me. I'm quite a good listener, and you're a reasonably bright girl. I think we would get along well enough, wouldn't you agree?"

"Thank you Tyrion….and you might be right." She looked ready to say more, but she instead started down the hall and didn't look back. It was enough for him, for now.

He was about to start towards the gardens when a noise, something falling to the hard stone, caught his attention. Tyrion turned and about groaned aloud when he saw Joffrey and Lucia had ran into each other. _Great._ This was the last thing he needed, and to make matters worse, Joffrey was in a particularly foul mood over the death of the Hound if the string of curses escaping his mouth was anything to go by. When he went to strike her, as if it was somehow her fault that his bodyguard had chosen to follow his mother's orders, Tyrion didn't get a chance to cry out before things took a turn for the worse.

Lucia grabbed Joffrey's hand before it could find her cheek and quickly yanked Joffrey by his arm. Before he could twist free, Lucia had since slammed her free hand into his stomach, driving the crown prince to his knees. "No one talks about my mama like that you golden haired ice brain! Your dog got what he deserved for killing Delphine!" Grabbing Joffrey by the front of his vest, Lucia slammed her forehead into his nose, leaving Joffrey whimpering in the center of the hall with an astonished Tyrion looking on.

He didn't remain still for long as he bade Lucia to his side, and he was eternally grateful that she listened as he bustled her back to the main hall. "While I'm not against you putting him in his place, I would suggest you don't make a habit of it Lucia. His mother won't take kindly to you having harmed him, even if you were in the right."

He wasn't at all surprised by the heated words that came pouring out of the girl at his side. He half expected flames to start coming out of her mouth, same as her mother, but he was thankful that didn't happen. "He shouldn't have started running his mouth. Calling my mama a whore, who does he think he is?!"

"The crowned prince." Tyrion replied with a shrug. "That might not seem like much to you, but to him, he has already gotten it in his head that he's above everyone else."

"He isn't. He still _bleeds _like anyone else. The sooner someone reminds him, the better." Lucia retorted through her teeth before running ahead of him.

_Tell that to his mother._ The Imp internally grimaced, but smiled at the girl's back as she slammed the side door to the main hall in his face. "Lucia, I have a feeling that we're going to become good friends." Tyrion mused to himself as he watched the girl storm off and join Jon and Lysa's side just as the Hand of the King stepped down from the Iron Throne. He knew Jon would protect her from the Queen's wrath, and Robert, for all of his faults, would side with Jon when he heard of this incident. And besides annoying Cersei to no end, there was a benefit of Lucia having dropped Joffrey to the ground as easily as she had. He suspected he had gained her confidence, something he planned to exploit for all he was worth even if a small part of him truly liked the Nord child from Skyrim's cold shores.

If there was one thing Varys and he could agree on however, it was that information was power, and if they planned to survive the war that was coming, Tyrion planned to be the most powerful man in King's Landing.

**The Red Keep, the flower gardens**

**One hour later.**

"How dare she strike Joffrey!" Cersei spat as she spun on her heel, away from Varys and Tyrion. With the sun high above, it gave the Queen the illusion of being rimmed in golden light, but both men knew better. Besides, the rage on her face and the furious gleam in her eyes told them all they needed to know that she was far from the radiant woman she pretended to be. "I want her out of this city!"

"And how do you plan to accomplish that trick dear sister?" Tyrion asked, not bothering to hide the mocking tone in his voice as he regarded the woman. "She is protected by the Hand and your dear husband, and only a fool would assume that Lady Morgonnis hasn't left a few of her people behind to make sure no harm comes to her. She's smarter than you give her credit for, and far more dangerous than you could possibly imagine."

"She's a woman with a flair for the dramatic. She's a charlatan, she has no power. That trick she pulled on the Hound was that, and nothing more." Cersei scoffed, just as Tyrion suspected she would. It seemed she truly was trying to convince herself that the enemy she had made was like any other. It was an illusion that was going to get them killed.

Thankfully, Varys was, at least for the moment, on his side. The Spider was quick to take up Tyrion's cause as he took a slow step forward, silent as a ghost despite his wide girth and his heavy robes. "Your brother speaks truth your Grace. My little birds have told me many strange tales since the day they arrived on our shores. Lady Giselle Morgonnis, the Harbinger to the Companions, the Dragonborn, or the Dovahkiin as I've heard her ca-"

Cersei spun back towards them and waved her hand in dismissal. "Yes yes, she's supposedly kin to man and dragon. Dragons have been dead for centuries, but if she wants the world to know she's fucked a few in her life, let her sing her songs and tell her tales. But please tell me you don't seriously believe this nonsense."

_Gods am I glad she wasn't here to hear that. _Tyrion had to take a breath to calm himself. Once he had regained some measure of his composure, he took a step, then a second so that he was right beside Varys. "She burned a man alive by _speaking _Cersei. She spoke _three words,_ and fire poured out of her mouth as sure as I'm standing here. You were _there_, you saw what she did to the Hound. The whole damn world saw what she did and you want to shut your eyes to the truth?! I knew you were arrogant but I didn't think you were stupid!"

He never saw her hand until he was knocked to the floor. Tyrion grinned despite the handprint that she had left on his face. Varys didn't blink, didn't move to assist him, which was just as well as Tyrion pushed himself to his feet. Cersei panted heavily, her face contorted into a furious visage. "How dare you speak to me like one of your whores!"

"Giselle was common born, and look how high she's come." That got Cersei's interest as she regarded Tyrion with a hint of curiosity. He set the bait, hoping he could keep his sister's attention. "I learned a lot by speaking to the people you spurned at every opportunity. Serana especially liked to talk when she was _happy_." That had her undivided attention, and Tyrion grinned as he looked to Varys, who nodded his head in agreement. "She certainly loves the dark skinned woman, as fiercely as you love your children. But before you consider another underhanded trick, know that Serana Volkihar isn't all that she appears to be either. Almost all of them aren't what they appear on the surface now that I think about it."

"What else have you _learned_?" Cersei asked, clear disdain in her voice despite her curiosity.

"Only that they are a dangerous people, and as honor bound as the Starks. They won't yield to anyone without making the realm bleed, and _you _ordered one killed in cold blood. And your target happened to be one of her closest friends." Tyrion closed the gap between them, and to Cersei's surprise, it seemed he grew several inches taller as his voice dropped to a whisper. "So forgive me if I don't care that Lucia knocked Joffrey on his ass. Children fight, and from what I saw, he earned every bruise he now bears. If I were you, I'd be ashamed to be called a mother to a boy who can't defend himself from a girl a year younger and a size smaller."

"Like father is ashamed of you?" Cersei retorted in that sickenly sweet yet cold voice of hers.

"I might be a bastard in our father's eyes, but I'm not to be trifled with. The sooner you learn that, the better for everyone." With that, Tyrion started back the garden path, but paused and offered his sister a mock bow. "Your _Grace_."

It was only after he was well out of earshot that Cersei turned to Varys who had remained unusually quiet throughout the talk with her brother. "And what do you make of all this, Lord Varys? Do you believe she's as dangerous as my fool of a brother thinks she is?"

Varys again nodded his head before folding his hands over his belly as Cersei started down the flower lined pathway. "Yes your Grace. I know it is hard to believe, I would not believe it if I hadn't seen it for myself, but she has true power of the likes that hasn't been seen since the Children. Since the time of dragons if you believe the old stories."

"And how are we supposed to defend against her if she _does _march on King's Landing?" Cersei asked, and Varys had no answer for her.

Someone else however, did. "By fighting fire with fire." Both turned and saw the bronzed skin foreigner, her arms folded behind her back as she walked down the stone, flower lined pathway. "She has the power to level this city to the ground. True magic, control over the elements on a scale that would make your blood turn to water in your veins. Thank your gods she isn't the only one."

"Lady Eldria Joroth correct?" The Altmer smiled and nodded her head at Cersei's question. "You would aid your Queen?"

"I would help you destroy Lady Morgonnis." Eldria countered, and the subtle grin on Cersei's pale face was all the answer the Thalmor needed. Varys remained silent, but his mind was busy, making plans to try and hinder this woman at every turn.

**The Island of Tarth**

**Evenfall Hall**

One evening, almost five months ago, a battered and broken ship had come ashore on the Island of Tarth. When the men had gone down to assist the survivors, they were cut down by steel that shattered their castle forged armor and weapons, and were similarly assaulted by vile sorcery. The Islanders fought and died by the dozens, but eventually, the strangers overran them, and slaughtered them like animals.

By the time the massacre was over, no one of House Tarth were left save for a few peasants and the Lord and Lady of the House, who the Thalmor held hostage so that they could move about the island as they liked. Eldria's orders had been very specific. They were to keep the family alive, so that their occupation wouldn't go noticed by anyone. What few trade ships that passed through the Strait of Tarth were raided, their people captured as slaves, and the ships sent to the bottom. The Thalmor were nothing if not methodical, and careful, extremely careful about who knew where they were and their current strength.

No one was the wiser to their deception, except for two. Nazir and Veezara knew the ruse for what it was the moment they arrived on one of Petyr Baelish's ships. Ever since they had come out of the few ships that were allowed to and from the docks, they had made it a point to go to ground. They were in enemy territory, and for all the beauty offered on the Island of Tarth, where wildflowers bloomed in abundance and the trees were filled with ripe fruit, the grass concealed the snakes. The Thalmor were here in force, and they wouldn't be fooled by Nazir's appearance. They would be less likely to miss an Argonian among the humans they had enslaved. But they were assassins of the Dark Brotherhood. They knew how to hide, how to blend in with a crowd, and not to trust a soul that didn't number among themselves.

So they concealed themselves amidst the outer wall of the castle, where no one wandered. The battle that had seen Tarth fall to the Thalmor had apparently spread across the island in short order. There were small impact craters where fireballs had slammed into the castle walls, scorch marks made by arcs of lightning, and jagged cracks in the ground where ice had suddenly formed underneath the men's feet, no doubt skewering them on the spot.

Nazir grumbled as he shook out his wet, crimson turban. It had started raining the day they had come ashore, and it had yet to let up. "Nice place we've found ourselves in Veezara." The Hammerfell man grumbled in sarcasm as he looked around their new surroundings. "Least this ruined tower's still defensible." His eyes scanned the tower, and nodded his approval despite the five foot wide hole in the ceiling. Other than that and a crack on the east side that allowed the elements in, the tower only had one door, and that still had a heavy iron bar across the wooden planks that served as the door. But that wasn't the only thing that had intrigued the odd pair of assassins.

Veezara knelt down, his night attuned senses detecting something beneath them. It had taken but a moment for the Shadowscale to uncover the hatch that had been concealed under a rotting rug. Without a word, the pair had pushed the rug aside and pulled the stone hatch open, together. They looked at each other for a moment before they descended the iron ladder stuck to the side of the narrow passage, before Nazir slammed the hatch shut behind them. The rug was pulled on top, Veezara having pulled the rotting furnishing to the edge of the slab so that when it was shut, it would roll back over, removing the evidence of them having ever been there.

The tunnel was wide and made of damp earth, but the walls were reinforced by the stone foundation above. The two assassins looked at each other, wondering if they had somehow found themselves back at the secret sanctuary underneath the Rills, underneath House Dovahkiin's lands. But there was no trace of the Dread Father here, no stink of death and blood, two things the assassins were all too familiar with.

When they came to a wide chamber after walking the length of the tunnel in silence, they were taken aback by what they saw. Close to a dozen men and women of fighting age, along with a number of young boys and girls of various ages were down here. The moment the two assassins entered the chamber, the room became silent as a grave.

The silence was soon broken when someone pointed a finger at them. "Kill them! The Thalmor have found us!" One man shouted, and the clang of drawn swords were heard in the stone chamber, and that noise was soon joined by the two assassins drawing their own blades as more shouts followed.

"STOP!" The clamor and their approach stopped dead as a woman's voice echoed through the chamber. "Do no harm to them! You would lose the fight before it began!"

"A wise choice. I'd listen to the old crone." Nazir commented dryly, cocking his head to the side at the closest of the motley crew that had drawn an equally assortment of stolen and makeshift weapons. Everyone in the chamber were dressed in stolen bits of armor and weapons, no doubt taken from their oppressors, but they were peasants at best. They would die like flies in the face of a true enemy. The smell of fear was too thick in the air to say anything else.

"They've found us! We have to kill them now m'lady!" Another man protested, and was silenced when the old woman, her face covered in a dusty gray cloak, put a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to still immediately as she whispered reassuring words in his ear.

Veezara had since taken a step forward and gently pushed aside a woman wearing a sword and shield. He was the first to catch a glimpse of the woman's face and about soiled himself in shock. "You know what I am, just as I know what you are assassin. I should know, I used to be one in a past life."

Nazir heard the lizard's sharp intake of breath and looked confused as they looked at each other. "Who is she Veezara? You obviously know her old friend."

The Argonian shook his head, but before the Redguard could ask what he meant, the lizard took a steadying breath before crossing his arms over his chest so that his hands touched his shoulders. The woman only nodded her head in reply as Veezara raised his head at her gentle touch, a flash of black skin the only warning Nazir had before the dunmer elder turned to regard him. "I never thought I'd see my native people again desert wanderer."

"I never thought I'd see a dunmer out here, in a whole other world." Nazir replied, earning him a dry cackle from the dark elf as she pulled her hood back, revealing her red eyes and dark gray skin. She was old, the wrinkles around her forehead and eyes said that much, as well as the stiff way she moved, as if her very joints were on fire. "Time hasn't been kind to you."

"That isn't the only thing that hasn't been kind to me." A subtle look towards the stone ceiling said all that needed to be said. "The Thalmor have a lot to answer for."

"Of that, we can agree on." Veezara replied with a hiss.

"You never answered my question." Nazir grumbled as he crossed his arms, his right hand falling on his scimitar hilt.

"He doesn't know, only that I was an assassin, same as you, but the Thalmor changed that for me." The dark elf replied as she rounded on him anew, and let her cloak fall to the ground, revealing a body scarred horrendously from countless years of torture and battle. Nazir and Veezara knew the difference between the scars, having inflicted more than a few themselves on their opponents. Despite the scars, there was an unmistakable grace and musculature that told of what she had once been. Despite her age, she still had her strength, and despite the obvious ache in her joints from her capture at Thalmor hands, she still moved well enough. She had been beaten and forced to bend, but she had never broken.

Picking up her dropped cloak, the dunmer covered herself, and spoke all the while. "But my fellows freed me a year later. I was captured again, several years down the line, and was eventually sent off Tamriel shores to die in the ocean. Except I didn't. I think you know what happened."

"The lunar gate. It opened for you as well?" Veezara asked as he raised a green scaled and scarred eye ridge, and earned a nod from the woman. "Then you're….no, that can't be right. You were supposed to have _died_, years ago."

The dark elf spun away and started down the chamber, anger radiating off of her at the lie that had been perpetuated by the very enemy that walked above them. "And the Thalmor say that they stopped Mehrunes Dagon, not the bastard son to Uriel Septim the VII. That honor belonged to Martin, a young priest from Kvatch that became the greatest hero we have ever known." It was then that the old dunmer lowered her head and looked towards a dark corner of the chamber. "And he was the man I loved….the only man I loved. I have never loved another, and he was taken to Akatosh's side far too soon."

It was only then did Nazir realize who they had found, who they had somehow, against all the odds, had stumbled across. "By the Dread Father. You're truly her. You are-"

"Dranos Morgonnis?" With a heavy sigh, Dranos, the heroine of Kvatch, the one that had paved the way for Martin and his allies to take the Imperial City during the Oblivion Crisis, slowly turned back to the assassins. "Once, that was true. Now I am an old woman with bone break fever in all of her limbs. I haven't been able to wield a bow or swing a sword since I was sent to my death, which incidentally turned into an exile that has lasted close to two centuries. I no longer remember the fire in Tamriel's night skies. The feel of the spice scented wind against my cheek that permeated the Imperial docks."

Nazir was quick to bring her back to the present. "She's here." At this, Dranos regarded the pair with an intensity that could have burned them to ash. "Giselle led us here, she ordered us to spy out the Thalmor and their defenses. To know where they are so that she can wipe them off the face of this world."

"She's _here_? And she's the _Listener_?! That's the only reason you'd follow her…..." Dranos exclaimed, and the two men nodded again. What strength she had left seemed to flee her and if not for one of her friends catching her by her shoulders, the dark elf would have fallen to the floor. "Gods….I didn't want her to follow….to make the same mistakes I made."

"The Thalmor _murdered _her family, and everyone thought you had died." Veezara replied, drawing the red eyed woman's gaze on him next. "_Everyone_, including her. Did you expect her to do anything less? But before you condemn her choices, know that the Dark Brotherhood's...methods made her a better person in the end. The more she murdered, the more she hated it, and the more she hated it, the more she tried to find a way out. She didn't find a way to pull herself from us forever, but she has become a woman that you'd be proud of Morganna."

Dranos gently pushed the woman away as she stood to her feet with renewed vigor, her red eyes focused solely on the two assassins that had been guided to them by Azura herself. "Tell me. Tell me everything, Brothers."

**The Kingsroad**

**That afternoon**

They stopped to for a short while to eat and rest for a time before continuing on their long journey home. Serana and the rest of the Dragonguard, as well as Giselle herself, hadn't spoken more than a few passing words with anyone since their departure from the capital. No one had much to say since Delphine had been a good friend to everyone, but the Blade hadn't endeared herself to many save to the Dovahkiin and those she had considered family. Lucia had numbered among them, and they had willingly left the girl behind in a fool's bargain to try and garner support with the sodding milk drinkers that called Westeros their home. And for what? To save them from a threat that many were thinking they deserved to be destroyed by? No one said as much, but everyone was thinking it.

Lydia, Aela, Serana, Farkas, and Vilkas had sat down around Giselle's fire, but none of them spoke a word. Only the sound of the small flames eating at the twigs and branches they had laid in a small pile and the clatter of their utensils against their simple bowls and plates could be heard as they ate their meal of roasted deer meat in silence. Only Serana didn't eat, save to take the occasional drink from a bottle of blood someone had donated earlier that morning, but she hardly noticed, her glowing eyes solely on the dunmer next to her.

Giselle looked up from her plate, hardly touched, and sighed as she met the vampire's gaze. They knew what was on her mind, even if she didn't say it. She blamed herself for the Blade's pointless death. Delphine wouldn't have been there if she hadn't chosen to participate in the melee, and the only reason the woman had chosen to stand beside her was to protect her, as was her duty as one of the last Blades in existence no thanks to the Thalmor. It wasn't until Farkas broke the silence that she forced herself to the present, and out of the mire of self appointed blame and doubt. "What did you say Farkas?"

Farkas rubbed at his chin and winced when he remembered half his beard was missing from Thoros burning it off. He shrugged, let his hand fall to his side, and repeated himself. "I said at least Delphine went down fighting. She wouldn't have wanted to go down any other way Harbinger."

"She wouldn't have been there if I hadn't insisted on being in that Oblivion cursed melee." Giselle growled through her teeth as she finally showed the first true emotion since they had started on their way back to _Monahven_.

"And yet you did." Serana replied quietly, earning her a brief flash of rage which cooled just as quickly when Giselle realized who had spoken next. "But you've seem to have forgotten that Delphine made her own choice Giselle. She chose to follow you, just as we have, and she knew what was at stake. You can blame yourself all you want, but it won't change that."

"That doesn't make it feel any better Serana…." Giselle whispered as she looked deep into the fire before her.

"I know. That's the difference between us and them though my love." Serana chose that moment to gently push the dunmer's face up by her chin before turning her head so her glowing orbs were locked with the dark elf's brown. "You care about each and every one of those that have chosen to follow you, regardless of their reason for boarding the Horizon Breaker when this started. You don't see us as pawns on a board like the nobility in King's Landing. Everything you've done, you've done to give us a fighting chance in the days to come. And as much as it hurts, Lucia understands that as well, I'm sure of that."

Giselle merely nodded her head before gently pulled her head free of the vampire's cold fingers, a flicker of a teary smile appearing on her face. It wasn't until Aela spoke that the dunmer had a reason to laugh. "Let's just hope Lucia doesn't leave someone black and blue before the week is over Harbinger. That one has the heart of a true Companion."

"She certainly gave you a run for your septims Aela." Lydia chimed in, and a few small chuckles followed as the Housecarl turned to a slightly confused Giselle. "While she doesn't have Aela's skill with a bow, she's not too bad with a dagger. There was a large pack of wolves running outside Whiterun, and our Huntress friend here decided to take Lucia with her to thin their numbers."

"If you value your life Lydia, you will not finish this story." Aela growled through her teeth, surprising Giselle more than a little. Companions were notorious for their stories of valor and prowess in battle, and the fact Aela didn't want this one shared meant that it hadn't ended well for her.

Lydia ignored the feral gleam on the Huntress's face and continued her tale, even as Farkas and Vilkas chuckled into their bowls. "Farkas and Vilkas were there, more as distractions than anything substantial my Thane. From what I was told, some of the wolves went after them while Lucia and Aela went after the main pack. Anyway, everything was going fine as Aela lived up to her name, except one of her arrows only wounded and stunned one of the wolves instead of killing it. Before anyone knew what was happening, the wolf had taken a bite out of Aela's ass."

Giselle could only blink at the downright ashamed look on the normally proud woman's face while her friends laughed at the fiery archer. She could only shake her head at the image Lydia had painted for her, and grinned as she asked. "And where was Lucia when the wolf got its teeth in our friend here?"

"She took one look at that wolf and jumped on the animal's back, her small dagger leading with a ferocious roar as Aela danced on her feet, trying to shake the furry bastard off." Lydia at last broke and joined in the laughs that had encompassed everyone around the small campfire.

"That reminds me." Aela grinned as she turned to Lydia. "Shall I tell our Harbinger of the time Delphine came to Whiterun, looking for the Dragonborn, only to run into trouble?"

At this, Giselle regarded the Huntress and the now suddenly quiet Lydia with renewed interest. "Okay, what happened? And why wasn't I told about this sooner?"

Before Lydia could try and silence the Huntress, Aela slapped a hand over the woman's mouth and proceeded with her own story. "Your Housecarl can hold her beer with the best of us Harbinger, but she made the mistake of trying to drink the twins under the table. Vlikas fell first, but Farkas outlasted Lydia. She accused him of cheating after she managed to pull her head off of the table, and just when I was certain he was going to transform and decorate the halls of Jorrvaskr with her entrails, Delphine comes in and knocks him flat before dragging her out to cool off. It was just as well, but the night didn't end there as Lydia then tried to pick a fight with the Blade."

"From what I saw when I gave chase, Delphine didn't take too kindly to having your Housecarl losing the contents of her stomach all over her boots." Farkas said as a deep, rumbling laugh escaped him.

"The smell alone was enough to knock a horker on its ass." Vilkas chimed in, and another round of laughter followed around the campfire.

Even as they broke camp and prepared for the next leg of their journey, the stories of past exploits and adventures didn't stop there. Even when they stopped again late into the night, the laughs and good cheer didn't cease as more of their number included their own experiences with the fallen Blade, Delphine. While it didn't drive the darkness away completely, Giselle was able to look towards the wagon that bore Delphine's coffin without feeling the full brunt of soul crushing guilt for her loyal Captain's death.

Looking up at the night sky by their tent, she looked to Serana for a moment before coming to some silent decision. Standing to her feet, Giselle walked away from the edge of their campsite before closing her brown eyes and calling upon the power that made her different from the rest of them. She needed an answer to a question, and there was only one way to find it. "_**HAN KAAL ZOOR!**_" As had happened the few times she had used this particular Shout before, a disturbance in the air appeared before the dunmer, and a few seconds later, an ethereal figure stood before her.

While she was disappointed it wasn't Delphine that had answered her call from Sovngarde itself, Giselle was still thankful that Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger that had stood in Jorrvaskr before she had come calling, had answered her summons. Nothing had changed as the mighty warrior materialized in front of her, and smiled warmly at the far smaller woman next to him. "It's been a long time old friend. Time has been generous to you I see."

He was just as she remembered him, as strong in life as he was in death. Despite his immense size, Giselle knew he was far gentler and far wiser than his appearance would have suggested possible. From the first day she had met him, Kodlak had intrigued and some could safely say, entranced her, had made her feel truly welcome among the Companions that had become a kind of surrogate family to the dunmer after she had broken away from the Dark Brotherhood in all but name and rank. And like then, he was still able to read her like an open book. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me my girl. Even in Sovngarde, I have heard tale of your struggles, both good and bad. You have come a long way, farther than I could have ever imagined."

"Considering you dreamed of my arrival to Jorrvaskr long before I actually showed up, that's saying something Kodlak." The great gray bearded warrior chuckled warmly and nodded his head at her words, having expected as much from her. Giselle smiled before looking away as she entered the edge of a small copse of trees, hoping to put some distance between herself and the rest of her people. Some things weren't meant to be shared lightly, something Kodlak understood all too well. "You probably know why I called you here, away from Shor's hall."

"I do, but I also know you didn't bring me here merely to ask if she was allowed entrance to our table, which still has a spot for you when your count of days has passed." Kodlak replied somberly as he matched her short stride effortlessly despite his longer and far more defined legs. Compared to her, he was a giant among men, even Farkas had seemed small next to the mighty Kodlak Whitemane. But his presence went beyond the physical sense. Even in life, he had seemed….different from everyone else, just like her. In his own way, he had understood her better than most, and his soul piercing gaze had lost none of its sway as he turned and put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand the burdens of leadership, and constantly wondering if I had done the right thing while I was alive, if I could have done more and perhaps steered our destinies towards a better future. I can say, looking back, that I did what I thought was best and I am content with where life had taken me. The most important question you can ask yourself is this, are you proud of where you find yourself Giselle?"

Giselle met Kodlak's gaze and found, much like the first time they had met, that once their eyes had locked, she couldn't tear herself away. And just like before, she had the distinct impression that he was peering into her soul, seeing her pain, her joy, and everything in between. She didn't find the intrusion the least bit disturbing, if anything, she found it welcoming, and when she finally nodded her head to Kodlak's question, she found the warm smile that appeared on the man's face all the reassurance she'd ever need. "That is the strong warrior's heart I remember the first time I looked into your eyes Giselle." Kodlak said as he put his hands on both of her shoulders. "Never lose sight of who and what you are, mighty Dragonborn. You might be the greatest warrior our world or any other has ever seen, but you are still Giselle Morgonnis at your core, just as I was once Kodlak Whitemane before I became a Harbinger and a hero in my own way."

When he started away, Giselle was glad his back was to her as she wiped at her eyes with the back of one hand. While he wouldn't care, she had her pride, and wasn't about to let him of all people see her tears born of gratitude for what he had given back to her. "I'll always remember you as the father I wish I could have had growing up Kodlak."

"I know Giselle." Just as he started to disappear, Kodlak looked over one shoulder and shot her a small grin. "To answer your earlier unspoken question, Delphine has indeed been given a place at Shor's mighty hall." With that, Kodlak Whitemane returned to his rightful place in Sovngarde, leaving Giselle standing in the night enshrouded forest alone. Even when she felt cold hands wrap around her stomach from behind and felt Serana's gentle embrace, Giselle's small smile and the tears that fell from her eyes didn't cease until she turned towards her eternal lover, who silently guided her back to their tent. No words needed to be shared as the dunmer slept peacefully that night.

**End Notes;** _I've been feeling like a pile of dragon dung the last few days, and only today have I felt anything close to normal. The section regarding Evenfall Hall therefore, at least in my opinion, isn't as good as it could have been, but a few of my friends have told me otherwise. Other than that section though, I'm overall happy with how this chapter has turned out and I hope you guys and gals agree. I will say that bringing Kodlak to Westeros to give her much needed counsel almost brought tears to my eyes at least since I've always liked the idea that he acts as a kind of father figure to the Dragonborn, for as long as he's around. Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews I got last chapter and I hope I get just as many if not more for this one. Talos guide you all!_


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